


Bury The Past

by shot_gun_shuts_his_cakehole



Category: Supernatural
Genre: British Men of Letters, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Demon Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Gen, Hurt Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, Lucifer Possessing Castiel (Supernatural), Lucifer's Cage, Post-Cage, Purgatory, Sam Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Sam Winchester's Hell Trials, Young Sam Winchester, gadreel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shot_gun_shuts_his_cakehole/pseuds/shot_gun_shuts_his_cakehole
Summary: We never really get to delve that much into Sam's emotional state. With all he's gone through, his mental health isn't going to be great. The show rarely touches upon Sam's trauma or mental health and when it does, they swiftly move on. Sam never seems to be allowed to process all the crap he's gone through. So I decided to create a story that goes into Sam mental health through the whole series. Each chapter will be about a certain point in Sam's canon life where Sam was dealing with painful emotions. All will be written from Sam's perspective.





	1. Why Is Everything So Heavy?

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have my other fic 'the grey' that I need to update, but I have writers block and this series wouldn't leave my mind, so I had to write it. I know it's months and months since I updated anything, but I was dealing with difficult things, but I'm back now and plan to update this fic regularly. I already have several of the chapters written.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning for suicidal thoughts/plans and general discussion of poor mental health. However, it's nothing considerably graphic and it's nothing that hasn't really been discussed in the show, but if you're triggered by mental health themes, please take care of yourself.
> 
> I'm not a mental health professionals and I'm just going from my own experience of mental illness.

I don't like my mind right now  
Stacking up problems that are so unnecessary  
Wish that I could slow things down  
I wanna let go, but there's comfort in the panic  
And I drive myself crazy  
Thinking everything's about me  
Yeah I drive myself crazy  
'Cause I can't escape the gravity  
  
I'm holding on  
Why is everything so heavy?  
Holding on  
To so much more than I can carry  
I keep dragging around what's bringing me down  
If I just let go, I'd be set free  


\- _Heavy_ , Linkin Park

* * *

 Even before Sam discovered the truth about John's real job, he'd never really been a kid. Dean had done everything he could to keep him innocent, but he was never really a child. They spent most of their time alone in crappy motel rooms, with oversized hand me down clothes, eating crappy food that never lasted long enough and moved from town to town, too fast to be able to form some resemblance of an actual life. Sam used to look at other kids with two parents and a cosy house behind a white picket fence and wonder why he and Dean couldn't have that.

He didn't mind it so much when Dean was around though or when they got to hang out with their uncle Bobby, but Sam hated the time alone. When Dean got older and started to hang out with other kids, Sam sat alone doing homework. Or when Dean finally started hunting and John couldn't find anyone to look after Sam, and he'd spend weeks alone in motel rooms. Scared, lonely and missing his big brother. He'd hated it. He'd been so desperate to start hunting so that he didn't have to be left behind and would finally find some common ground with his family. 

It was funny thinking about that now. That Sam was once desperate to hunt because he hated hunting these days. He hated the constant injuries. He hated having to try and walk normally despite the bruised and broken ribs from a werewolf hunt because if the teachers noticed, they'd almost definitely call CPS. He hated moving all the time.

Sam didn't always have the easiest time making friends. Dean always seemed to show up at a new place and instantly have a group of friends and a trail of pretty girls following him around. Sam, however, took some time when it came to finding someone to hang out with. By time he did, it was usually time to pack up again.The one thing Sam could always count on, was instantly finding a new bully at each place though.

In all honesty, Sam hated hunting. He wasn't the violent type. He didn't get a kick out of killing things, even if they were monsters. He didn't like constantly worrying about coming home to hear that his father was dead, or worse, Dean. 

As he got older, he seemed to just get more and more miserable. Things had gotten worse lately since Sam turned 14. John and Dean were on a hunt and Sam had miraculously convinced their dad to allow him to stay home because he needed to study for a test. They'd be gone for three days, which meant 3 days alone. Sam had once hated being alone, but lately he found himself craving isolation.

Sam had never really known happiness. His life had been full of worry and anxiety from as far as he could remember. He'd always been a lonely kid, but now, he found himself in a particularly dark patch.

He was usually incredibly enthusiastic about school, it was the one place he didn't feel like a disappointment. He may have moved around a lot of schools, but he always managed to stay on top of his classes and teachers praised his work. In a world in which he could never please his father or be the person he wanted him to be, school was the once place he felt adequate. However, he'd been in a funk lately and he found himself forgetting why school work had always mattered so much to him.  

Sam sat on the motel queen bed and attempted to study for the test. He read the same page 5 times, but couldn't manage to take it in. Sam threw his books to the ground and curled onto the bed. He hadn't eaten, but he hadn't been hungry for weeks. All he wanted to do was sleep, but the nightmares that had always been present in his life, were so much worse these past few weeks. He pulled his heavy body from the bed and pulled out there med kit to see what medication they'd got. Sam was glad to see they had Valium in there. They rarely had anything other than standard pain meds, but it looked like their dad had stocked up when Dean had broken his wrist a couple months back. Confident that his dad wouldn't notice a couple missing, Sam swallowed down two pills. Pausing for second, Sam finally shrugged and took two more. He knew he shouldn't take four of them, but he knew it wouldn't kill him and he needed some rest. Having took the pills, Sam climbed back into bed, hoping they'd knock him out enough to avoid any night terrors. 

The next morning was the day of the test, the one Sam had convinced their dad to let him study for. Sam would usually be extremely prepared, but he'd failed to study and now he woke in, what would have been, the end of second period. His test would be in fifteen minutes, but he didn't even really care. Everything just felt so pointless lately. School, hunting...life. He felt like he was falling into a black hole and he didn't have the energy to grip onto something for safety. He was exhausted all of the time and so, incredibly, sad.  

A ringing jolted him out of his thoughts. His phone was ringing, probably school wondering where he was. He fumbled around the duffel bag and found his phone. It was Dean. Dean was his whole life. His best friend. The only person who'd ever showed him what family was. Dean was his favourite person in the whole word, yet right now, he found himself really not wanting to talk to him.

Dean always checked in with him to see how things were going. Dean was probably trying to get hold of Sam before his test, but it would mean Sam having to explain why he wasn't at school and he couldn't deal with that right now. So he let the phone ring until it finally stopped and then dropped it back in the bag. Something else in the duffel caught his eye.

A handgun. 

A gun sat in the bag. Dad and Dean always left him with any weapon he might need, guns, knives, you name it. He never really bothered to think about. 

Sam picked up the gun and check to see that it was loaded. It was. A thought crossed his mind. Sam thought about how simple it would be to stop everything. To make all of it stop. One pull of the trigger, strategically placed and all of this would be over.

Sam placed the gun down and backed away from it quickly, almost like it had burned him to touch. Guilt flooded through his body. Like Dean would know that he even so much as thought about it. But once the shock of the guilt subsided, Sam thought about it again. Really thought about it, and it suddenly didn't feel like such a crazy idea anymore. 

He came to realise that the only thing really stopping him was Dean, but the thought of years and years of this life pulled him closer to the gun.

Maybe Dean would be okay. Maybe he'd even be better of. He'd always felt responsible for Sam. Never got to have a childhood because of the responsibility he felt to look after him.  The responsibility Dad had put on him. He knew he'd be crushed at first, but maybe it'd free him in the long run.

Dean was the only person Sam even really considered. His dad never really came into his train of thoughts. His dad hated him. Couldn't stand that he wasn't the good son that Dean was. He couldn't accept Sam for who he was and was always trying to make him be something different. His dad probably wouldn't even take time out of a hunt for his funeral.

Okay, so maybe that was a little unfair.

Sam thought that maybe their dad loved him in his own way, he just didn't know how to love anyone properly since their mom died. Sam knew his death wouldn't affect him too much though and he didn't feel guilty at the idea of leaving him behind. He loved his uncle Bobby, but they didn't see him all the time. Bobby would be fine and Sam knew he'd be there for Dean. There was Pastor Jim too, he'd always been so lovely to Sam and Sam had enjoyed his services. Jim was the first person to have given Sam a bible. It became a treasured item for Sam. Sam knew that Christianity viewed suicide as a sin. Jim would be disappointed in Sam, but he was always talking about forgiveness, so Sam hoped he'd find a way to forgive.

Sam suddenly realised that briefly thinking about suicide had suddenly turned into him hoping Pastor Jim would forgive him. Almost like he'd suddenly decided to do it. 

Dean.

Dean would never forgive him even if God or Pastor Jim did. Dean might blame himself. Sam would never be able to explain it to him.

But he needed to do this. He was actually going to do this.

Sam placed the gun on the side and pulled out his notepad and pen and started scribbling.

 

_Dear Dean,_

_God this feels so cliche and contrite. I just needed to explain. Although I'll probably never be able to explain it properly._ _I know you'll probably hate me after all of this. I'm not trying to change that, hating me might make this easier on you._ _My main reason for writing this is because I know you blame yourself for everything and I just wanted to tell you that_ _this isn't your fault. You couldn't have saved me. Nothing could. If anything could have been enough, you'd have kept me_   _here. I just can't keep doing this Dean._

 _I can't sleep, I can't eat or move or breath anymore. It feels like I'm suffocating._ _Sometimes I think that maybe I wasn't meant to be here. That this was all some sort of mistake. Maybe I was never meant to make it out of that fire. Maybe I was meant to have died with mom or maybe she was meant to survive instead of me. I just feel wrong. Like I don't fit. I'm so miserable all the time._

_Whenever I'm awake, I'm just going through the motions. Most of the time, I can get by just fine. Get through the day. I may not be happy, but I can cope._

_Lately though, the thought of getting through just the next minute feels like an impossible task. I walk around and it feels like there's an anchor attached to be dragging me back. My bodies just so heavy and all I want to do is lie down, but when I lie down, my thoughts don't leave me alone. They hound me and every bad thought I've ever had, any harsh word that's been said to me, floods my mind. My life's a living nightmare and then when I actually try to sleep, the actual nightmares take over._

_I'm used to nightmares. I'm used to dreaming about blonde women and flames. Of yellow eye's and blood. None of it makes sense, but they've been the same for years. I'm used to them, but my dreams have gotten worse lately. Similar themes, but way worse. Now, it's you that has the yellow eye's and you're carving into me with a knife or worse, dad has the yellow eye's and he's killing you. I don't sleep anymore, but I can't stand being awake either._

_I don't think this is how it's supposed to be, Dean. I don't think I'm supposed to be this sad this young. Somethings wrong with me, Dean. I think maybe it always has been. I haven't said anything before because I didn't want you to think I was stupid, but I think there's something 'off' about me. Since I was a small kid, I've always felt unclean. Like there's something in my blood that's inherently bad and just so dirty. I even poured holy water on myself once, just to make sure._

_I can't get rid of this darkness inside of me. Well, I can. There is one way to get rid of it which is what leads me to writing this note. I know this goes against everything that a Winchester is supposed to be. A Winchester is supposed to suck it up and be strong. Winchester's don't give up._

_I guess, I'm not that strong at all. I've never really been like you and dad. You both fit together, I don't. Don't get me wrong, I feel like I fit with you, Dean. You're my best friends. You're the best big brother, man, but I don't fit with this family. That probably won't make any sense. Maybe it just come's back to the fact that I don't fit anywhere._

_I wanted to write this letter to explain, but I'm probably just making things worse. I really am sorry, Dean. I know this is going to hurt you so much and I hate that I'm going to be the cause of that pain. I think once you get past the grief though, you'll actually be way better off without me. I know that sounds like a cop out. Like I'm just trying to bail myself out of the responsibility of the hurt I'll cause, but I really do mean it._

_You've always felt responsible for me and that's not fair, Dean. From the age of six, dad put that burden on you. Six years old, Dean, you were just a baby taking care of baby. You deserve better. You deserve a life. A life that doesn't revolve around taking care of me. So please don't let this ruin you. Don't self destruct._

_I know I have no right to ask that of you considering what I'm about to do, but please don't. You'll grieve me, sure, but don't grieve forever. Move on. Have a life that you want, Dean. Not what dad wants. Don't just switch from taking care of me to taking care of dad. He can take care of himself and I won't be round to drag you down anymore. Please do something for life, Dean. Live the life you want. You could have the most amazing life. You're so much smarter than you ever let on and you could do anything. So go out and do it, for me. Yeah, maybe that was a cheap shot. Asking you to do it for me, but I just want to die knowing that you'll be happy eventually._

_Anyway, I'm going on. It's time for me to go. I know you have a 'no chick flicks moments' rule, but I'm about to die, so I think that gives me the right to be as soppy as I want. I love you Dean, I love you so damn much. This really has nothing to do with you. If love had been enough to keep me alive, the love you've always showed me would have kept me alive till I was sitting in a nursing home, trying to somehow salt the windows whilst in a wheelchair. If anything at all could have kept me hear, you'd have been more than enough, Dean. I just really can't do this anymore, I just hope you can understand that._

_Love you,_

_Jerk_

Sam felt somewhat satisfied with the letter. It was never going to make up for what he was about to do. It would never make things okay for Dean, but he felt like maybe Dean would understand a little more now. He folded the letter over and wrote Dean's name largely across the back. He placed the letter on Dean's bed and grabbed the gun once again. Sam took a deep breath, the gun felt heavy in his hand. He lifted the gun to his head and closed his eye's. He let out a breath and got his finger ready to pull the trigger.

A small noise disrupted to silence and sent Sam's heart jumping out of his chest.

The shear surprise of the noise almost made Sam press the trigger before he meant to, but he managed to quickly take stock of the situation and realised that the noise was the sound a key in a lock. Sam heard a jingle and muffled obscenities. It was Dean and thankfully, it sounded like he dropped his keys. Quickly, Sam placed the gun back in the duffel and jumped into bed.

Dean barged into the room.

"Sammy?!", exclaimed Dean, "What the hell are you doing home?".

"I'm sick", stated Sam.

"Well, you don't look sick, but I know what you're like with school and you had that test, so there's no chance you're faking. You okay?", asked Dean with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine, think I just ate something bad", shrugged Sam, "Anyway, what about you? You were supposed to be with Dad on that hunt?"

"Yeah well, it turned out to be nothing supernatural, but dad wanted to move on to another town for another hunt. I came back to see my geeky little brother. I kind of just felt like I needed to be back here. Kinda weird", mused Dean.

"Well, you are weird", shrugged Sam casually.

"Speaking of food poisoning, I need some food and so do you. You look skinny", announced Dean, dropping his duffel on the bed without looking what he was doing. Sam watched the bag and suddenly noticed the letter he wrote on Dean's bed.

In his panic, he'd forgotten to pick it up, but thankfully Dean hadn't noticed it. Sam leapt up and jumped across Dean's bed. He grabbed the note, as Dean got some food together, and crumpled it into his sweatpants pocket. Dean turned around and Sam tried to look normal.

"What's up?" asked Dean with a scowl.

"I just needed to look at some homework, it's fine though", lied Sam.

"Okayyy. This food poisoning or whatever is making you weirder than usual, Sammy", laughed Dean.

"Yeah, well, do you need the shower?" If not, I do", asked Sam.

"I'm fine, go ahead, but don't be too long because I'm making food", ordered Dean.

Sam nodded and practically ran to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and quickly turned on the water to block out the sound.

Sam felt like there was no oxygen in the room. He lent against the door and slid down to the floor, hoping the cold linoleum would ground him, but his breath continue to hitch. He hugged his knee's to his chest and placed his head on them. He continued to hyperventilate, being unable to stop himself from falling apart in the privacy of the small bathroom.

His breathing got worse and he felt like he was dying, but the rational part of his brain told him it was a panic attack. It wasn't settling though and Sam felt like his heart was going to give up. He decided to jump in the shower, the hot spray spreading over him and soaking his clothes. He switched the heat to cold and the freezing water helped to ground him in the moment. After a couple of minutes, his breathing began to slow and he felt the intense panic start to subside in his chest. The pure terror started to fade.

Sam suddenly noticed how cold he was and shivers wracked his body. Once the panic attack had fully subsided, Sam climbed out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel. He pulled a soggy mess out of his pocket. What was going to be his suicide note just a few minutes ago, was now a pile of mush and the words had bled into an inky mess. 

Sam thought about what he'd been about to do. He'd almost killed myself. He'd almost shot himself and left the mess for Dean to clean up. What the hell had he been thing?!

Well, he knew what he'd been thinking. He'd been thinking that he was miserable, lonely and that the world would be a better place without him in it. He still felt like that, but know he saw the rest of it too. He saw Dean discovering his body. He saw his father getting the call from Dean. He saw himself as a vengeful spirit or in hell. He saw a broken Dean. A Dean that didn't do as he asked and lived his life and instead, had spiralled. He saw a version of his brother that resembled their dad. Drunk and bitter, the light in his expressive green eye's, completely gone.

Who was Sam kidding? Dean would never recover from this. If he allowed himself, he probably would be better off without Sam, but Dean was too stubborn to be healthy and move on after grieving for Sam. He would never give Sam the satisfaction of building himself a happy life. He would probably feel to guilty to have any kind of happiness without Sam. He'd never be the same again. He'd be broken. Sam was so close to destroying the only person who'd showed him unconditional love. 

He still felt the way he did before. He still wanted to die. He still felt miserable. He still felt unclean and wrong. He still felt like he dragged Dean down. However, Sam couldn't do that to his brother. Couldn't destroy him so completely by killing himself. 

Sam pulled himself together, changed his clothes and pushed his soaked one's deep into the washing basket. He finally walked back to Dean who was munching away on some food and watching Scooby Doo. Sam spent the rest of the evening with his big brother, revelling in his care free mood.

* * *

Dean was fast asleep on his bed, snoring away. Sam had liked being in Dean's company, but he could barely look him in the eye's through the guilt that sat in his stomach. If Dean knew what Sam had been so close to doing earlier, he might never forgive him and that's what Sam thought of every time Dean looked at him.

Now, Dean was asleep, Sam had time to act. He knew he couldn't take his own life now.  Dean wouldn't recover from finding him like that, but getting out of there was a different story. Sam needed out. He couldn't carry on with the life he was living. He needed an escape for reality.

Maybe Dean couldn't deal with his death, but if Sam was still alive, just out of the picture, Dean would probably be fine. It was a compromise and it gave Sam an escape from the heavy guilt that he felt whenever he was around Dean. Dean wouldn't be a fan of this either, but it was better than the other option. 

Sam quickly shoved a few of his things in his duffel and left Dean a note explaining that he needed to be by himself. 

Taking a regretful look at a peaceful Dean, Sam walked out of the motel. He wasn't sure where he planned to go or what he planned to do, but he needed out. He had a better 'out' in his mind, but this one would cause the least devastation. With that in mind, Sam walked in the dark night, towards the bus stop.

This was the beginning of the two weeks Sam would spend at flagstaff with Bone's, before a furious and hurt Dean found him and dragged him back to him and their father. Dean never found out what led to Sam's disappearing act, and Sam was forever thankful for that. 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's the first chapter. This one is relatively short and others will be longer. Each chapter will take a look a Sam's mental health at different stages through his life. The next chapter I'll be covering both, when Sam first goes to stanford and when Jess dies. Hope you enjoy


	2. But You Never Go Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers Stanford, from leaving Dean and John to Jess dying. I hope you enjoy!

Thought I found a way out  
But you never go away  
So I guess I gotta stay now  
  
Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here  
Even if it takes all night or a hundred years  
Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near  
Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear  
  
Isn't it lovely, all alone  
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone  
Tear me to pieces, skin to bone  
Hello, welcome home

\- Lovely, Billie Eilish and Khalid

* * *

Sam sat at the end of his bed in his new home. He'd made it. He'd actually got himself a full ride to Stanford and worked up the guts to leave hunting and create his own future.

Sam thought about that time, years ago now, when he'd come so close to dying by suicide as a teenage boy. The depression hadn't ended then. It followed him around for years after that, but he stuck around for his big brother. At some point though, through the bleakness, he'd developed hope. College was a huge part of that. He pinned all of his hope that he'd find some happiness on going to college. This was his chance to live a normal happy life. This was his chance to leave the old him behind and hopefully, the dark cloud he'd been carrying around would stay in the past too.

This should have been an amazing moment, so why did Sam feel so alone? Sam knew he'd be leaving his family, but he hadn't expected it to go quite like it had. He knew neither their dad or Dean would throw a party at the idea of Sam leaving for college. He knew his dad would probably blow a gasket when he found out, but he thought Dean would support him.

He didn't expect Dean to be completely happy about it, but he had expected a little pride from him. He thought Dean, the person who'd practically raised him, would be a little bit proud that Sam had gotten a full ride to Stanford. Yet, Sam could see no pride in Dean's eye's, only anger.

Sam had known he would be leaving hunting behind, that was part of the appeal, but he had never expected to leave Dean behind. He'd expected plenty of phone calls and visits. He didn't expect to lose his brother. Kids go to college all the time, parents are usually proud. Most kids don't get cut of from their family for getting into an amazing college. But Sam's family wasn't like most.

When his dad had given him the ultimatem, he hadn't been surprised. He wasn't surprised that his dad was prepared to cut him of for this. What he wasn't prepared for, was for Dean to go along with it. For Dean to agree with their father. When Sam had realised Dean was prepared to cut him out of his life just for going to college, a deep hurt settled in his stomach.

His best friend and big brother, the person he'd stayed alive for, was turning his back on him for choosing a different life for himself. He didn't quite believe it. He was hurt, but he was a Winchester and they channeled their hurt into indignant anger so Sam clenched his jaw and stormed away from his family and didn't look back.

Of course he didn't see what Dean saw. He didn't see it like his kid brother was abandoning him. He didn't see that Dean was hurt too. That Dean didn't understand and thought Sam was leaving him. Dean didn't see that Sam wanted both Dean and Stanford.

Sam didn't see that Dean was confused and hurt and Dean couldn't see that Sam wanted his big brother around and felt abandoned and betrayed by his big brother too. The two stubborn young men just buried there hurt and replaced it anger and nonchalance.

So that's where Sam found himself now. Alone in his new college dorm, lonely and hurt. He checked his phone, hoping to see a missed call from Dean, now his anger had subsided somewhat. His phone was clear, no messages.

Anxiety started to bubble in his chest. Sam had always had Dean there. For the first time, Sam was completely alone in the world.

* * *

 

The weeks after Sam arrived at college kind of blurred into one. Sam threw himself into his classes. His life revolved around work, he didn't eat or sleep properly and he never socialised. He didn't bother trying to make any friends and at first nobody bothered with him.

After a month at Stanford though, someone approached Sam as he was leaving class.

"Hey dude, want to get some coffee?", asked a cheary looking blonde guy.

Sam recognised him from the class, but he didn't even know his name.

"Erm, that's good of you to ask, but I have plans", lied Sam.

"You mean going from class to class and then going back to your dorm?", challenged the man.

"Excuse me?!", groused Sam, getting a little annoyed.

"I'm sorry dude, it's just, I live in the same building you do and I see you going about your business and you're always working and you're always alone. I know that moving away from home is tough and I thought that maybe you could do with a friend. I don't have too many friends, but I've met a few good people here and you need as many people as you can get", admitted the man.

"I'm fine, you don't need to befriend me in pity", insisted Sam.

"It's not, most of the people I've met live way across campus. I'm not that friendly with anyone in our building and it'd be nice to have a friend close by. It's not pity, it's called socialising", he laughed.

Sam sighed a laugh and released some of the tension in his shoulders. He still hadn't got out of hunting mode yet and found himself closed off and paranoid, but this guy was right, you did need all the good people you can get and Sam wasn't in the position to be turning away friends.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I'm not a complete recluse, I do know how to interact with other human beings despite how I've been since I got here", smirked Sam, "I just don't know anyone here".

"Yeah, I get it. So, do you want to get coffee before the next class and then after classes have finished I could meet you and show you the best bar on campus. It's not the fraternity scene, which I'm guessing will be a plus for you?", he asked.

"Sounds great, I'm Sam by the way. Sam Winchester", offered Sam.

"Sam", he nodded, "I'm Brady".

* * *

Sam settled into a good routine. Brady became his best friend.

It's was just after fall break, Brady came back a different person. The unassuming, mild mannered pre med guy turned to heavy drugs, began using girls left right and centre and dropped out of pre med. Sam tried to get his friend on track, but Brady was never quite the same after that.

Sam stuck by him, despite not liking to be around this new Brady when he was on a bender, but he'd been there for Sam when he was having to get used to living without Dean, so he wasn't just going to abandon him when he was having some struggles.

At one point, Brady insisted on introducing Sam to a girl. Sam was hesitant. Since Brady's meltdown, he hung around with different people and they weren't the type of people Sam would choose to spend his time with. Drinking, drugs and casual sex wasn't Sam's thing. Brady was insistent though, so Sam agreed to meet the girl despite having no hope for what the blind date might hold.

Sam waited at the bar, with Brady who was already pretty drunk, and Sam's blind date had yet to show. Sam felt pretty miserable. His best friend here wasn't the same anymore and he felt as lonely as ever.

"Heyyy!", shouted an inebriated Brady, making Sam jump out of his skin.

"This is the wonderful women I was telling you about, Sam", slurred Brady.

Sam looked in the direction Brady was gesturing too and he forgot to breath for a while.

When he first set eye's on Jessica Moore, Sam believed in love at first sight for the first time in his life. Then she smiled at him and his heart melted into a puddle in his chest.

"Hey, you must be Sam", smiled Jess.

"And you must be Jess", stated Sam, taking the hand Jess offered.

Suddenly, Brady began puking and the guy who worked behind the bar was kicking them out.

"I think we need to get this guy home", sighed Jess.

"He lives in my block", stated Sam.

"I'll help", offered Jess kindly.

Jess and Sam manouvered the drunken man through the campus and back to his dorm. Sam found Brady's key and let them all in.

Sam carefully lay Brady on his bed, making sure he was on his side so he wouldn't choke if he decided to puke again. He laid a bucket by the bed, along with some water and aspirin for when he woke up.

"I'm going to stay here with him, make sure that he's okay", explained Sam.

"Hey, wasn't this supposed to be a date", reminded Jess.

"Yeah, sorry about that", offered Sam.

"There's still time yet. How about we hang out here? Watch some TV, order some pizza?" suggested Jess shyly.

"That sounds amazing to me, but, you wouldn't mind that?" asked Sam.

"Hanging out with pizza sounds like a perfect first date me", smiled Jess.

* * *

 

Sam and Jess sat comfortably around the small coffee table which was currently occupied by two large pizza's. The tv was on, but neither of them paid attention.

"So, you don't seem like the type of guy Brady hangs around with lately", started Jess.

"I was about to say the same thing to you", admitted Sam, "But I knew him before he started acting like this. He was the first person who actually took time out to talk to me when I started Stanford. He was the first friend I made. We were similar back then. I'm not sure I recognise the Brady that came back after fall break, but he's my friend and someone has to make sure he doesn't end up totalling a car when he's drunk or overdosing on God knows what. I'm trying to get him back on track, but..."

"But it's hard to help someone who doesn't want to be helped", finished Jess knowingly, "I knew him from the start of school too, he's pre med and I'm doing psych. He was touching upon psychiatry in his pre med class and we bumped into each other looking into the psych section of the library".

"I'm surprised Brady didn't introduce us before now", mused Sam.

"We weren't best friends or anything. More like acquaintances. Past few weeks though,  he hasn't left me alone talking about this Sam guy who's apparently perfect for me", laughed Jess.

"Oh yeah", smiled Sam nervously, "So, psychology huh? What do you want to do in the future?"

"I want to become a clinical psychologist. I had an older brother. We were inseparable growing up. He always looked after me, you know? Anyway, when he was 16, he went missing. He was gone for two weeks and when they found him, he had no shoes on, his hair was a different colour and he was extremely paranoid. They said he had Bipolar disorder. Whenever he was sick, it felt like I was losing my big brother, but what was worse was witnessing the depressive episode's. Seeing him so sad, broke my heart. He killed himself two years ago", admitted Jess quietly.

"I'm so sorry, God, that must have been awful", offered Sam.

"I'm sorry, I've literally just met you and I'm telling you the stuff I should be saving for my memoirs", Said Jess as wiped her eyes, "Maybe it's because I'm tired or maybe it's you, but there's something about you that makes me feel like I can be honest with you. I feel so stupid now though".

"You are far from stupid. If you ask me, there's no heroism in keeping all of the hard emotional stuff in. It just creates more pain. It'd be nice if we lived in a world where we could be open about the hard stuff"

"That would be nice... So what about you? Any deep dark depressing secrets you can tell me so I don't feel so clingy for telling a near stranger a deeply personal story?", prodded Jess.

"Honestly, I kind of feel like a jerk right now", admitted Sam.

"Why?!"

"I'm sitting here, listening to the heartbreak your brother's suicide brought to you, and I can't help, but think about the fact that I almost put my own brother through that", admitted Sam.

"You..you tried to kill yourself?" stuttered Jess in shock.

"No, but I was close. I have an older brother too. Our mom died when I was just a baby and our dad buried himself in his work and alcohol after her death. Dean was the one who basically raised me. We were inseparable too", explained Sam.

"That sounds rough", grimaced Jess, "when did you... What led to...what happened?"

"I was never really happy. Our life was a little chaotic. We spent a lot of time alone in motels. Our dad's work meant him travelling a lot. We were just two kids by ourselves and it was tough, must have been so much worse for Dean though. Except that Dean and dad got along well. They like the same things and they just click. I never fitted into that. As much as Dean centred his whole life around me, I didn't feel like I fit in my own family and we moved around too much to develop any friends...I was just a really lonely kid, I guess. That was always just how it was though. I wasn't happy, but it was just my life. I don't know what happened to make things have gotten so bad when they did. Nothing bad had happened, nothing had really changed. It was just like I woke up one morning with this darkness blanketing me. I was 14 and it wasn't even sadness anymore, I was just empty. I wasn't sleeping because of nightmares. I wasn't eating because I didn't see the point anymore. I wasn't even interested in school anymore which was so not like me. Everything was just so hard at that time. Getting through another second felt impossible. I was home alone because Dean had finished school and decided to go work with dad and I skipped school. My dad's kind of a gun nut and he'd left a gun in the motel in case I needed to defend myself. The idea seemed to develop so suddenly and the next thing I knew, I was writing my suicide note to my big brother and then pressing a gun to my head. Turns out, Dean came out early. I managed to put the gun back and hide the note before he had chance to suspect anything. It really shook me up though, I had an anxiety attack and ran off after that. I spent two weeks living by myself in flagstaff with a stray dog I found and called Bones. My brother inevitably found me though and dragged me back", explained Sam.

"Oh sam, you're not a jerk", stated Jess as she clasped Sam's hand, "you were just a kid. A kid who'd gone through a lot and was now depressed. You managed to keep yourself alive despite having no support. You're brother should be so proud of that".

"He doesn't know. He loves me and as much as he'd try, he wouldn't understand. We were raised to be tough...I'm surprised you're not angry with me for what I almost did after what you experienced with your brother"

"I would never be angry at that. I've never been angry at my brother either. My parents were, they were so angry, but I was just... Sad. When I think about how he must have felt to do that and that he was alone in those moments, I hate it. That's why I want to get into psychology. As cheesy as it sounds, I want to help people. I didn't get to help my brother, but I want to help others"

"That doesn't sound cheesy, that sounds amazing. You're going to make a difference to people's lives", insisted Sam.

"Speaking of mental health professionals, did you ever get any help for your depression?", wondered Jess.

"No, I just pushed through. Leaving for college became the light at the end of the tunnel. I focused everything on that, but when it finally happened, it became the reason my brother and dad don't want to know me"

"Really?! Their kid getting into a top college is usually a parents dream", asked Jess in confusion.

"Yeah, to them, I was leaving the family though", defended Sam, "I miss Dean, it's weird without him".

"Why don't you give him a call?", suggested Jess.

"I'm not so sure a call from me would be so welcome", sighed Sam, "anyway, now I've just told you my life story and probably scared you off. I guess there's something about you that makes me feel like I can talk too".

"Maybe it's something about us together that makes it so easy to talk", flirted Jess shyly, "For the record, I think you're strong as hell. Getting through that without help is amazing. Your brothers lucky to have you".

Sam and Jess spent the rest of the night talking. They talked and everything and nothing. As impossible as it seems, it was like they got to know everything about each other within the night. There was a connection between them, they both could feel it and for the first time in months, Sam felt a spark of hope ignite inside of him.

* * *

Sam and Jess started dating and they became serious quickly. Sam had never been the romantic type, but he'd started to believe that he and Jess were meant to be. Although Sam was enjoying the feeling of being in love with an amazing women, the sadness he'd felt for most of his life didn't leave.

"Sam, have you ever thought about getting therapy?", asked Jess one evening, feigning nonchalance.

"No, I don't need a doctor Jess. I'm not sick, it's just one of those things", insisted Sam. Jess didn't push him, she was always gentle, not knowing when she was overstepping the mark.

Over break though, Sam started to feel worse. Jess and all of his friends were going home to their families. Sam was one of the few people to be staying on campus, no family to go home too. Jess tried to convince him to come home with her, but Sam thought it might be a little early for that, especially for her parents.

So Sam had waved Jess off and returned to his dorm alone.

The campus was deserted and there were no classes. Sam didn't mean to spend all of his time in his dorm, but he didn't have the energy to go out.

By the time Jess returned home, she let herself into Sam's place to find it in darkness.

"Sam?", called Jess.

She heard a small and quiet call of her name and noticed a Sam shaped lump in his bed.

Jess bent down on the side of the bed where Sam lay. She turned on the lamp and now she saw him properly, she saw how terrible he looked. 

He was unshaven, his eyes were bloodshot and underlined with dark circles.

"I'm sorry, I slept through, I meant to come meet you", apologised Sam meakly.

"Oh, baby", soothed Jess as she put her hand on the side of Sam's face, "what's wrong?"

"I've messed everything up", Sam choked as a tear escaped his eye.

"You haven't messed anything up, you're doing everything right. You're the perfect student, the perfect friend and the most amazing guy I could ever ask for", reassured Jess.

"Not the perfect brother though or son. Dean... He practically raised me and I messed it all up, he hates me now, doesn't want to know me. I was never good enough for my dad and I got my mom killed. She was in my nursery, she was trying to save me and she got killed... No wonder my dad hates me", murmured Sam through more tears.

Jess had never seen Sam like this. Never seen him be so openly emotional. She knew he'd struggled with depression, but he usually tried to hide it. Seeing him so openly vulnerable broke her heart.

"Sam, your family love you. I don't know them, but it sounds like you've all been through a lot. Your dad probably doesn't know how to show he cares, but he does and so does your brother, he just doesn't understand, but you didn't mess it up okay? You didn't do anything wrong", insisted Jess.

Sam buried his face into the pillow as he fought to control himself.

"Everything about me is wrong, nothing makes sense. I don't know what to do, Jess", broke Sam.

"Sweetie, when was the last time you got some proper sleep?", questioned Jess.

"I don't know, I haven't been sleeping well", admitted Sam.

"Honey, you need rest. No one can think clearly when they don't sleep", said Jess, "I know you've said no before, but please think again about seeing someone".

"I don't want therapy", moaned Sam.

"Well, just got to a doctor then? They could help get you back on track? Please, Sam, I'm begging you. I can't bare to see you like this. I need you to talk to someone", pleaded Jess.

Sam was about to say no, but then he looked at Jess properly. Her face was full of poorly concealed fear and her beautiful eye's were brimming with salty tears. Sam was the reason she looked like that and in that moment, Jess could have probably convinced Sam to do anything she wanted.

"Okay, I'll see someone", agreed Sam as Jess enveloped him in a huge.

* * *

A few days later Sam found himself walking back into the doctors waiting room to a nervous looking Jess. When she saw him, she waved and bit her lip, apprehensive to hear what the doctor had to say. 

"Well, how did it go?", questioned Jess as soon as they left the clinic.

"He says I'm depressed", shrugged Sam, "he's prescribed me Zoloft, it's an antidepressant that I'll need to take everyday and he's also prescribed Valium to take only when I absolutely need it".

"That's a positive step, Sam. There's no shame in taking medication for your mental health. This could really help", smiled Jess before planting a gentle kiss on Sam's cheek.

"I know", smiled Sam, "What would I do without you, hey?"

"Hmmm, crash and burn?", smirked Jess.

* * *

After the medication started to kick in, Sam saw changes in the way he felt. It did't make him happy, but it made him feel like a semi functioning human being. Things at college got a lot better after that. Sam started to have a more rounded life that didn't just revolve around school. He made some new friends himself, rather than just hanging around with who ever Brady did, like the start of school and he also became close to Jess' friends. Along with a good group of friends, Sam got himself a job in a diner not far from campus. The pay was pretty average, but the staff were nice and it meant money to take Jess out. With everything else slotting into place, he'd started actually enjoying school, instead of just using it to run himself further into the ground. He socialised more too, he took part in more events around campus and actually made an effort to put himself out there more.

Then there was Jess. Sam and Jess decided to move into an apartment together and Sam loved the idea of spending more time with her. Jess was the light in his life. She always seemed to know what to say to Sam, and he knew her too. They were like a perfect fit. They weren't exactly the same and had many different interests, but they weren't so vastly different that they had nothing in common. They seemed to fit together like they were meant to be with each other.

The medication wasn't a cure for feeling like crap sometimes, but they helped him to manage things more and being able to manage things more meant being able to do things that improved his mood, like go out with Jess, go to work or hang out with friends.

Sam had finally found what he didn't think was possible. A sense of normality. He felt like a normal guy for his age and he loved it, but Jess was the one thing he hadn't been expecting. He hadn't expected to fall in love. Hadn't expected to find the person he wanted to grow old with, so young. Sam was going to propose to Jess. He didn't know when, not yet because it was still early, but he was going to do it. Every time Sam looked at her, warmth settle through his tense and frazzled body. 

Sam watched as Jess unpacked her clothes in the new apartment.

"Hey, Sam? Why don't we put this here?", asked Jess.

Sam looked to where Jess was calling from and found her placing a photo frame on their sideboard. Sam walked towards her to see what she was doing and it was only when he got closer that he saw it was a framed picture of himself and Dean when they were younger.

"I hope I'm not overstepping, but I found this photo in your stuff when we were packing and I thought it might be nice to frame it in the new place. I know you miss him a lot and you look so happy in this photo...", explained Jess.

"I love it", interrupted Sam as he hugged Jess.

"We're going to have a happy future, you know that right?", stated Jess.

"I know", nodded Sam as he draped his arms around Jess' shoulders, "You make me believe it's possible.

* * *

_After Jess' death..._

Sam lay awake in a motel room that resembled all of the motel rooms he'd been pulled around, growing up. Dean was asleep on the other bed. He'd tried hard to stay awake in order to watch Sam, but he'd fallen asleep 30 minutes ago.

Sam felt empty.

Jess was dead.

He could have stopped it, but didn't. He should have been there, but he wasn't. He should never have allowed their relationship to happen, but he did. Now Jess was gone. The women he'd wanted to marry and have kids with had burned above him. Sam thought back to his teenage years. He thought about dreams of blonde women burning and how it all made more sense now. He thought about how it'd happened to his mom and Jess, both times whilst he lay helplessly below them. 

He was the common denominator in this.

He was to blame. 

The grief took his breath away and he felt like he'd never be able to smile again. He needed to sleep, he needed a respite. So he closed is eye's and hoped for a peaceful nights sleep. 

* * *

Sam was woken with a rough shake. Dean was calling his name.

"Sam, you were screaming in your sleep. You need to wake up", insisted Dean.

"M'sorry, bad dream", muffled Sam as consciousness reclaimed him.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No, nothing to talk about it", refused Sam.

"Okay, well get dressed. We hit the road in 20. Got everything you need before leave?", asked Dean.

All of Sam's things burnt with Jess, but he had some photo's in his wallet and bought a couple of essentials for his duffel yesterday. There was something else he needed.

Sam probably needed some medication. Sam knew there were withdrawal side effects, but Sam felt like hell anyway and no amount of medication was going to stop the pain he felt now. Jess had died, this was how he was supposed to feel. Sam didn't need those tablets. What he needed was to find the son of a bitch who killed their mom and Jess. He'd feel better after that.

He was sure he would.


	3. The Truth Is So Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is half the size of the last two, so I'm going to upload the next chapter tomorrow to make up for it. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it covers events in seasons 3 like John's death, his final words and his own death.

 Plans of what our futures hold  
Foolish lies of growing old  
It seems we're so invincible  
The truth is so cold  
  
A final song, a last request  
A perfect chapter laid to rest  
Now and then I try to find  
A place in my mind  
Where you can stay  
You can stay away forever  
  
How do I live without the ones I love?  
Time still turns the pages of the book it's burned  
Place and time always on my mind  
I have so much to say but you're so far away

-  _So Far Away,_ Avenged Sevenfold

* * *

Sam felt empty. His dad was dead and he didn't feel like he had the right to grieve. He may not have gotten on with his dad, but he still loved him.

 

Sam had been the to one find him.

Sam had never thought John had much love for him. John never seemed happy, no matter what Sam did. He was never satisfied with who Sam was and always tried to change him. As a child, Sam would have done anything to make their dad proud. That's why he'd been so thrilled when he was finally allowed to hunt. However, as Sam got older, that need for approval turned to defiance. If he was never going to be good enough for their dad, he was going fight him, kicking and screaming all the way, when John was being unreasonable. Now he was gone though, Sam grimaced when he thought about all of their fights. He cringed when he thought about the last fight they'd had.

  
Sam had been the one to find him.

Sam watched his brother with concern as he retreated inside himself at the pain he was feeling. Pushing everyone away, including Sam. Sam just wanted to be there for him, but Dean wouldn't let him. And he was so damn angry. Sam took the brunt of that anger. Deep down, Sam knew Dean was misplacing his anger. Deep down, he knew that his big brother wasn't really angry at him. The person Dean was angry with, the person he needed answers from, had been salt and burned. Despite knowing this, Sam couldn't help but take Dean's anger, harsh words and even his fist, to heart. He was hurting too, but he didn't have the right.

 

Sam had been the one to find him.

A small part of Sam, a part which Sam hated, was actually jealous of Dean. Jealous of a man who was currently being drowned by heartbreaking grief. He was jealous because Sam wanted to be able to feel his father's death, but he couldn't because he didn't have the right. Instead he just felt empty. Dean had the right to grieve. Dean was righteous. Dean had done nothing but make their father proud. He'd followed his orders and been a faithful son. He had the right to feel bad about this. Sam wanted the permission to feel the sadness of his father's death, but how could he? When all he'd done was fight with him. Dean was right, it was too little, too late. No matter what Sam tried to do now to make his dad proud, it was never going to change anything. Sam was filled with guilt. Guilt for that fact that in the last moments he'd had with his father, he'd picked a fight.

  
Sam had been the one to find him.

There was also another thing Sam felt guilty for. Both Sam and Dean had a good idea that their dad had done something. One minute Dean was on the brink of death, John was acting funny and the next Dean made a miraculous recovery and Sam was finding their father dead. Neither Sam or Dean were stupid. They both knew John had done something. Something that involved bringing Dean back and something that had landed John dead.The other guilt Sam felt came from the fact that part of Sam was grateful to their father. Sam was, by no means, grateful that their dad was dead. He was broken, but he was grateful that he'd saved Dean. Losing John was hard, but losing Dean would have been unbearable for Sam, especially after Jess. So part of him was thankful to John for making the deal and saving his brother. But Sam hated himself for it.

 

Sam had been the one to find him.

Things were better between him and Dean since everything with Gordon and the zombie girl case. The harsh words, frustration and punches had seemed to pass and Dean wasn't pushing him away so much. Dean had apologised for how he'd treated Sam and admitted he felt responsible for their dad's death. As far as Sam was concerned, Dean had nothing to feel guilty over. He'd been a good son. Unlike Sam.

Even if Dean wasn't so angry with Sam anymore, Sam was still angry with himself. The guilt ate away at him, but he focused on Dean. He had Dean. They had each other. They were all they had now, but it didn't change the fact that whenever Sam closed his eye's, he saw his father.

  
Sam had been the one to find him.

* * *

John had told Dean that he might have to kill Sam.

John had told Dean that he might have to kill Sam.

No matter how many times Sam told himself that, he couldn't take it in. His dad thought that Sam had evil inside of him. So much so, that he'd instructed Dean to kill him. 

Dean had been sitting on this secret since their dad died. Sam wanted to be there for Dean, it was too much and John should have never put that on him. It wasn't fair on Dean, but Sam couldn't think about anyone else right now. He could only think of his father's dying words.

Sam might have to be hunted.

Sam had many mixed emotions. He wanted to be angry at his dad, enraged and in a way, he was. Who says that about their own child? Who even considers that for a second? What kind of man was he to not only consider the murder of one of his children, but to ask his other child to pull the trigger?

Sometimes, he was angry, but Sam knew that their father was a damn good hunter. An amazing on. He had the best instincts. If John had thought Sam could turn into something they hunted and would need to be put down, it was probably true.

Sam thought back to how he'd always felt growing up. He'd always felt so wrong, different and unclean. Maybe Sam had good instincts too, and that was the reason he'd wanted to kill himself back then. His heart shattered into pieces though, when he realised his father felt the same way. All of the things he'd believed his father felt about him, were true.

People had suggested that Sam was secretly John's favourite. Sam had never really believed them, he knew Dean did, but Sam didn't. Now, he found it laughable. How could a father favour a child he thought would turn evil and need to be killed? Sam had always told himself that John did love him deep down, that he just got real messed up after their mom died, but now Sam wondered if he ever loved him at all.

It was times like that, that Sam did feel angry. He felt furious sometimes. John had two sons. Two sons who both had completely different relationships with him, yet he'd manage to screw both of his sons up so monumentally. He made Dean feel like no matter how much he tried to be the perfect son, that he'd never be good enough. That he'd always play second fiddle and he'd made Sam feel like who he was at his core, wasn't good enough. That Sam was a disappointment who would eventually need to be killed. 

Then John had died, and left his kids to try to put together the pieces that John had left behind. 

As devastated as Sam was over the emotional side of what John had told Dean, he was also concerned about whether or not his dad was right.

Sam felt like a ticking time bomb. He felt like although he was still himself, a switch could flick at any moment and he'd suddenly be a monster.

Maybe he already was one. 

Dean played it cool, like he wasn't at all worried about Sam going bad, but Sam saw the fear behind his eye's. Dean had faith in Sam, but this could be something beyond Sam's control and Dean was worried too.

Sam didn't know how to handle it. The days of his teenage years and Stanford suddenly seemed so simple. He'd do anything to be that blissfully unaware of what the future held. 

Sam wasn't usually the one to turn to drink in difficult times. That was John and Dean's bit. Yet, Sam decided to drown his sorrows. He wanted to be so out of it, he didn't have to think about dead fathers, last words, special children or psychic abilities anymore. He just needed a break.

In his drunken state, he'd begged Dean to do what his father wanted. To kill him if it got to that. He hated putting it on him like his dad had, but he needed the reassurance. 

Sam had considered doing it himself. Maybe he'd finally listen to John for once. Follow an order, hunt the bad guy and finally do his father proud. It wasn't like he hadn't considered it in the past, but he knew Dean was too vulnerable for that right now. Dean was barely pulling himself together from their father and Sam didn't think he could handle losing Sam so soon. He'd have to eventually, but that could be a good while away. Sam could have some time left with Dean. If Sam just left it to fate, he could be too far gone to take himself out of the equation. 

He wanted to be there for Dean as long as possible, but he also wanted to make sure he didn't hurt people. 

So that's what led to Sam sitting around drunk, begging his big brother to kill him. 

* * *

Sam had been possessed by a demon. Meg had possessed him. He'd never felt anything like that before. He couldn't begin to describe what it felt like to be trapped inside of your own body. To be inside, but unable to control what you're doing. Sam was haunted by memories of seeing his own hands murder an innocent person and having no power to stop it.

The possession had shook him up. It was traumatic, but besides that, the whole event make him more terrified. The worry of what their father had said to Dean amplified. Sam had almost killed Jo and Dean wouldn't shoot. He may have had an instinct Sam was possessed, but he didn't know and the situation could have easily gone a different way and led to Jo's death.

Sam really didn't think Dean was ever really going to kill him, even he did go bad and that terrified Sam. What terrified Sam more though, was the person he saw in the mirror.

He was terrified of what he could become.

* * *

Sam wasn't going to kill Jake. That wasn't an option. He couldn't play into what yellow eye's wanted him to do. He couldn't become the person John thought he would. Jake was innocent and Sam was determined to come out of this with a clear conscious.

When the fight was over and Jake was on the ground, Dean had come riding along, just like he always did. Sam had felt so relieved. The fight was over, he was still himself and his big brother was here. As Sam stumbled towards his brother, he didn't care about the pain around his body. He only cared about reuniting with Dean. 

But something changed in Dean's expression. His relieved and joyful face clouded with realisation and fear as he screamed Sam's name.

Sam was confused. Everything was okay now, right?

Then he felt it. The piercing of skin, the breath taking pain of severed nerves. He'd been stabbed in the back, literally.

He was too dazed to really figure out what was happening. He was fading and quickly. Within seconds, Sam was beginning to lose consciousness. He couldn't figure out what was going on. He only understood Dean. 

Dean was there. That he understood. The one constant in his life that he always understood, Dean was there to catch him when he fell. 

Sam knew he could rest now. Dean would make sure everything was okay.

Just as Dean gripped onto Sam's weakening body, darkness flooded Sam's mind. Sam was gone too quickly for Dean to be able to say anything to him.

The last thought Sam had has the blackness crawled at the edges of his eye's was that maybe he'd finally get some peace now.


	4. I Can See You Starting To Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter briefly explores Sam's emotions during season 3 (Dean's deal, mystery spot and Dean's death) and then explores after season three ended and before season 4 began. It'll show Sam's grief and the state of mind that led to him being manipulated and taken advantage of by Ruby. The next chapter will actually be events that happened within season 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for unintentional self harm. Sam doesn't do it with the intention of hurting himself, but he still hurts himself. Nothing majorly graphic, just mentions of minor burns and upsetting grief.

 

Daylight dies   
Blackout the sky   
Does anyone care?   
Is anybody there?   
Take this life   
Empty inside   
I'm already dead   
I'll rise to fall again   
  
I can feel you falling away   
  
No longer the lost   
No longer the same   
And I can see you starting to break   
I'll keep you alive   
If you show me the way   
Forever and ever   
the scars will remain   
I'm falling apart   
Leave me here forever in the dark   
  
God help me I've come undone 

-  _Give Me A Sign,_ Breaking Benjamin

* * *

Sam felt like he'd signed Dean's death warrant. Dean may have been the one to make the deal, but Sam could already feel Dean's blood on his hands and the year wasn't up yet. Why couldn't Dean have just let him be?

He'd never been afforded a normal life, he at least thought that he might be able to have a normal death. Instead, Dean had made a deal to bring Sam back from the dead, but damned himself to hell in return. Sam couldn't be angry with Dean, though part of him wanted to. How dare he make this decision for him? How dare he put this on Sam? Dean had hated their dad for doing the same thing, yet he'd done it to Sam. Dean couldn't face life without Sam, but he expected Sam to go on without Dean.

But Sam couldn't be angry at Dean, not really.

He couldn't be angry at Dean, because when he thought about Dean's deal and the fact that Dean had a year left to live, Sam knew that he'd do absolutely anything to stop this deal, to save his brother. So he couldn't be angry at Dean when he knew he'd do the same thing.

If they didn't stop this deal, Dean would be spending time in hell, all for Sam. When John had told Dean that he might have to kill Sam, he was devastated that their dad could even say such a thing. Yet, now, he found himself wishing that John had done the job himself.

Dean couldn't die for Sam, he just couldn't. He couldn't leave Sam alone. The thought of it had the power to bring Sam to his knee's. He couldn't accept it. He was going to find a way out of this deal. He had too.

* * *

Everything that happened with the whole mystery spot had made Sam more anxious. If Sam wasn't already scared to lose his brother, he was now, because he knew what it felt like. It felt like Sam's world falling apart. When Sam had told Dean about everything that had happened in the tricksters time loop, such as the hundreds of times Sam had watched Dean die, Dean had been somewhat sympathetic, but he'd also seen the humour in it. 

"Getting crushed by a piano? I'll give the trickster credit where it's deserved, he has a sense of humour", smirked Dean.

And maybe Sam would see the funny side of it too, if he hadn't lived 100's of Tuesday's and held his dying brother more times than he could recall. Maybe if he could erase the bloody images of Dean or the heavy feeling that dropped into his stomach every time he heard 'heat of the moment', Sam might find the whole ordeal funny. Except Sam couldn't forget any of it and he failed to see anything remotely humorous about the memories that haunted him. 

In some of those many Tuesday's, Sam hadn't even bothered getting out of bed. He'd given up hope of preventing Dean dying and he couldn't bare to witness another one of Dean's deaths. However, the more Sam stayed in bed, the quicker the time loop restarted. Dean wouldn't even get to the bathroom before Asia would start playing again. 

Sam had never felt quite as helpless as he did during the time loop. It was Sam's own personal hell. Nothing could be worse than reliving this feeling over and over again, being completely unable to stop it. 

The last time was the worst. Just when he thought everything was back to normal, that they'd won, the trickster had pulled the rug right from under him. Sam had never wanted to hear Asia playing so much in his life. When Sam had to live for three months without his brother, he'd gotten a glimpse into his future and he didn't like what he saw.

Sam didn't want to live without Dean, but he also didn't want to see what he'd become without him. He didn't trust himself when Dean wasn't there. In those three months he spent trapped without Dean in the tricksters time loop, Sam had become an empty shell. He was cold and barely human. He became someone that resembled their father. He didn't want to turn into that. 

Even in the real world, Sam was starting to become someone he didn't recognise and Dean wasn't even gone yet. He'd become someone who'd kill more ruthlessly, if the ends justified the means. He'd become someone who drank in the middle of the day and was willing to work with demons. Sam was scared of himself. He always had been. Ever since he was little, he was scared of the person he could become. After Jess died and everything happened with the special children, Dean had been the one thing keeping him sane. He believed in Sam and that belief was Sam's compass. Dean kept him on the straight and Sam was terrified of who he'd be without Dean.

Sam didn't trust a lot of people, he didn't even trust himself, but he would trust Dean with anything. Sam just couldn't be without his big brother. Stanford had been different. Dean was still alive and he'd had Jess too. Dean dying was a whole other kettle of fish. 

Something else that haunted Sam about the tricksters little game was that it made the impending deadline on Dean's deal seem even more real. Sam and Dean had yet to figure a way out of this and time was quickly running out. If they didn't stop this, Dean was going to hell. 

The thought of his big brother in hell made Sam want to throw up the contents of his lunch. Hell was unimaginable, but Sam's imagination was pretty good, so his dreams of Dean in hell were pretty vivid. Hell was the last place Dean should be. If anyone belonged in hell, Sam thought it'd be him. If Dean did end up there, Sam didn't know how he'd live with the fact that his brother was being tortured in hell because of him.

* * *

Blood. 

Dean's lifeless eye's.

His shredded body.

His screams.

Sam couldn't stop staring at his brother, no matter how much he wanted too. Sam couldn't stop holding him even though he was covered in Dean's blood and that very fact made him feel sick to his stomach.

Blood.

Sam's hands and clothes were stained with it.

Dean's blood.

His hands were stained with Dean's blood.

They would never be clean. No amount of soap or water could wash away his big brother's blood. 

Sam should have been able to save Dean.

Dean always managed to save Sam, but Sam couldn't live up to his brother. He couldn't do this one thing for him and save him too. Now Dean was in hell.

Sam didn't notice Bobby as he joined his side. He could only focus on what was left of his brother.

* * *

When Bobby finally pulled Sam out of his grief induced trance, they took Dean's body and drove back to Bobby's. The first thing that Sam did was shower. He tore off the blood soaked clothes that he knew he'd never wear again and threw them in the trash. He climbed into the shower and watched the red wash off him, but it wasn't enough. His skin may look clear, but he could still _feel_  the blood all over him.

His brother's blood.

He got out of the shower and got dressed.

Sam examined his hands. The hands that had held his dying brother.

They would never be clean.

He just wanted to not feel his own brother's blood on his hands. He wanted claw the skin off them. He felt desperation screaming in his chest as he turned on the hot water tap and submersed his hands and forearms under the water. The water was so hot, but Sam didn't notice. He looked around wildly and grabbed a bottle from the side of Bobby's sink. 

It was bleach, but Sam didn't even begin to think about it rationally and started to pour the bleach on his hands and arms. He just wanted to get it off his hands. At some point, Bobby had come to find Sam.

Sam hadn't notice the door opening. He didn't notice when Bobby asked him what the hell he was doing. Sam didn't notice the burning sensation on his arms. He didn't notice that he was crying. 

Bobby turned off the water and threw the bleach in the bin. He grabbed some cloths and wet them with cold water and placed them over Sam's raw arms. Bobby expected a struggle when he guided Sam out of the bathroom, but Sam was surprisingly compliant. Sam had lost any fight that was inside him. Bobby sat Sam down and got out the first aid kit to see to Sam's arms. The combination of burning hot water and bleach had done a number on Sam's arms and blisters were forming from the burns. Sam remained silent during the process and Bobby mumbled to himself about 'damn Winchester's', but there was more sadness in his voice than anger. Sadness at his own loss and sadness at having to witness one of his boys so broken.

"I just wanted it to go away, Bobby", whispered Sam with a hoarse voice.

Bobby looked up, surprised at the sudden dialogue.

"Wanted what to go away, boy?", asked Bobby.

"The blood. Dean's blood. It was all over me and I couldn't get it off. I can't get his blood off me, Bobby", explained Sam as a stray tear fell once again. 

Bobby sighed and put a hand on Sam's shoulder, the boy wouldn't look him in the eye, but Bobby considered that Sam's mind was elsewhere. 

"It's gone, Sam. The blood's gone. It's not on your hands and none of this is your doing, alright? It's just going to take time, is all. But you can't be pulling stunts like this on me, boy, my ticker can't take much more", advised Bobby as softly as his gruff voice could muster. 

Once Bobby had dressed Sam's arms, he tried to get him to eat. Sam wouldn't eat anything and excused himself for bed even though both Sam and Bobby knew none of them would be getting any sleep that night.

* * *

The next morning, Bobby brought up saying 'goodbye' to Dean. Sam insisted on burying Dean, partly because Sam couldn't bare to burn his brother and also because he wasn't ready to let go of him. He was still desperate to find a way to bring him back. Bobby hadn't liked it, but Sam was a mess and although he tried arguing with Sam at first, he eventually gave up. When Bobby had first approached the subject of burning his body, Sam had reacted in anger. When Bobby argued against the burial, Sam continued to react in anger for a while and anger, Bobby could deal with. However, as Bobby continued to try and reason with Sam about salting and burning Dean, Sam finally broke down, tears dropping from his broken eye's and Sam pleaded with Bobby to let him bury his brother. Well Bobby found that he couldn't argue with that.  

Bobby had a tough exterior, but those Winchester brother's could always soften his edges.

So, they had buried Dean and once the little ceremony was over, Sam had asked for some time alone at Dean's grave. Bobby didn't want to leave the fragile man alone, but he always wanted to respect what Sam wanted and needed. So he hesitantly left Sam alone to grieve his fallen brother. 

Sam didn't return to Bobby's for another 6 hours. By then, Bobby had been climbing the walls. When Sam eventually came home, Bobby smelt him before he saw him. Sam smelt like a brewery and Bobby cursed himself for leaving Sam alone.

As Sam made his way through Bobby's home, he crashed and bumped his way into furniture, shushing the inanimate object when it made a noise.

"What are you doing, boy?", sighed Bobby.

Sam started when he realised Bobby was there.

"m'sorry, didn't see you", slurred Sam.

Bobby guided Sam to the sofa and fetched a bowl from the the kitchen to put at Sam's side. He had a feeling Sam would need it in the morning.

Sam was spread out on Bobby's coach with a haunted look on his face.

"Do you think this is what Dean would want?", questioned Bobby.

Even drunk, the question hit Sam hard. Sam looked as though he'd been slapped in the face and Bobby regretted saying anything, but the hurt look was quickly replaced with hardness.

"I don't know, Bobby, do you think Dean thought about what I'd have wanted back at cold oak?", retorted Sam, emotionless.

"I'm sorry, that was a low blow", offered Bobby.

"No, it's true. He would be disappointed. I'm just not the man Dean was, Bobby. I'm not good like him. I know that you know it too...I don't know how I'm going to make it on my own", confessed Sam in his drunken state as more tears made themselves known.

"Listen to me Sam, you're a good boy. You're a good man. You and Dean grew up to be good men. Better men than your father was. I wish more than anything that Dean was here with us, but I don't wish that Dean hadn't made that deal because it got you back. You're not secondary only to Dean. I just wish I'd have been able to save you and your brother", sighed Bobby.

"I should have saved him. I failed him", sobbed Sam.

"Hey, enough of that", ordered Bobby as he gave Sam a rare hug, "This isn't on you, Sam. You did everything you could. I don't want to hear anymore of this self deprecation, you hear?"

"Okay, uncle Bobby", agreed Sam.

"Good. Now get some sleep, ya damn idjit".

* * *

The next morning, Sam had already been up a while when Bobby had come downstairs. Sam had gotten through some aspirin and about 4 cups of coffee. A duffel was packed and set by Bobby's door.

"Going somewhere?", asked Bobby in confusion.

"Yeah, I'm hitting the road", stated Sam.

"Don't you think you should stick around here for a while? You know I'm always happy to have you boys...", Bobby trailed off, "You know I'm always happy to have you around the place, Sam".

"I know, Bobby and I appreciate it. I just need some time on the road", shrugged Sam.

"I'm guessing there's no changing your mind on this, but I don't like it"

"You don't have to worry about me, I'm okay"

"Last night you couldn't walk straight because you were that blind drunk and your arms are still bandaged up from when you tried to take a bleach shower", pointed out Bobby.

"I just hadn't accepted that Dean was gone, now I know he is. I'm going to be okay", promised Sam.

Bobby wasnt convinced, but he knew how stubborn Winchester's were and that he'd get nowhere with Sam. So, he waved Sam of as he got in the impala, but made him promise to stay in touch.

* * *

As Sam sat in the impala, everything felt so wrong. Nothing was right without Dean. The impala had been the only home Sam had ever known. It had once been a safe place, but now it just reminded Sam of all he'd lost. Suddenly, the car was suffocating him and he just wanted to get out. Sam resisted the urge to run away from the impala though, because he needed to put some distance between him and the place Dean's body lay. He needed to put some distance between him and Bobby too.

Sam loved Bobby. He was family and he knew Bobby would be grieving too. He also knew Bobby was worried about him, but he still found himself pushing him away. Bobby was the only family he had left, but Sam continued to isolate himself further. Maybe it was because being around Bobby's home and all the memories of him and Dean's childhood was too hard. Maybe it was because Sam didn't feel like her deserved family right now. Maybe Sam just wanted to self implode without Bobby around to make him feel guilty about it.

Whatever it was, Sam needed to get away. So he fought the urge to escape the impala and just drove. He wasn't sure where he was going, he just knew he had to go.

* * *

The first few weeks after Dean died were an alcohol fuelled blur to Sam. Everyday was the same. He'd wake up due to a night terror and the first thing he'd do was grab for a bottle.

Night and day lost it's meaning as Sam stopped being able to decipher between the two. The only time he really left the motel was to get more alcohol. Thankfully, there was a store within walking distance of the motel. He didn't want to drive, crash his brother's beloved car and end up killing someone. He already had enough blood on his hands.

At the store, he placed 5 bottles of whiskey on the counter. The girl behind the till was barely an adult. Probably a college student. The young women eyed Sam nervously and Sam didn't blame her. He hadn't showered since he left Bobby's, he was unshaven and no doubt, he looked like crap. Not to mention that he smelt like he'd been soaked in alcohol and he was currently buying more. Sam didn't want to scare her. So he offered his most innocent smile and thanked her sincerely. The fear and weariness in her eye's changed to pity. That was so much worse.

Sam didn't deserve anyone's pity. He was a screw up. Useless. Anyone who got close to him died. He was worthless and now his brother was in hell, having God know's what done to him, all for his worthless little brother. Sam didn't bother waiting for change, he just grabbed his bag and headed out the store. 

Instead of going back to the motel though, Sam found an empty bench. It was a rough town, so nobody would look twice at some down and out guy drinking alone on a bench late at night. As Sam began swallowing down one of the bottles of whiskey, he took out his phone. Sam hadn't bothered checking his phone since he left Bobby's and sure enough, he had 14 missed calls from Bobby. Sam felt guilty. He knew Bobby wanted to help Sam, but nobody could help him. 

Ignoring Bobby's messages, Sam dialled the number he knew by half. Sam breathed in as he listened to Dean's voicemail message. Hearing his brother's voice was like breathing in air after holding your breath for a really long time. Sam replayed it. And played it again. And again. 

That's how Sam spent the night. Drowning his liver in whiskey and replaying his brother's voice. Sam fell asleep on the bench, his brother's voice recording serving as a lullaby. Almost like Dean was singing Sam to sleep, just like he had when he was a little boy.

* * *

 

Sam woke with someone shaking his shoulder. For a second, a tiny perfect second, Sam forgot. He forgot Dean was burning in hell and he thought it was Dean shaking him awake. However, that one beautiful second, was over too soon and Sam remembered what his life had become. 

The person who was actually shaking him, was a stranger. A stranger in a police uniform. Sam took note of his surroundings. He was slumped on the bench, his hand still curled tightly around his phone and bottles of whiskey sitting next to him.

"Come on son, you can't stay here", ordered the police man sympathetically.

"Yeah, I'm going", promised Sam as he collected his bag and headed towards his motel. 

Sam may have blacked out through alcohol, but it was the most rest he'd had in a while. It didn't make things seems any clearer though. 

When Sam eventually got to the motel, he opened another bottle of whiskey as soon as the door was shut. 

_Do you think this is what Dean would want?_

Bobby's voice echoed in his head. 

Dean would be disappointed in Sam. Sam was a mess. He done nothing but drink himself into oblivion and feel sorry for himself since Dean died. Is this what Dean really sacrificed himself for? For Sam to kill himself via liver failure. 

Suddenly overcome with anger, Sam screamed and threw the bottle of whiskey at the wall. He watched it smash into tiny pieces.

"You stupid idiot!", screamed Sam, "How could you do this to me?!"

Sam was yelling to someone who he knew couldn't hear him, but in that moment, Sam was furious with Dean. They were in this position because Dean couldn't stand to let Sam go, but he'd left Sam to do what he couldn't. Did Dean ever stop for a second and think what he was leaving Sam to? Sam wanted to hold onto that anger, because the anger felt a hell of a lot better than the grief and sorrow that was currently sucking the life out of him. 

Sam went into the motels small bathroom and threw water over his face. Catching his reflection, Sam could hardly recognise himself. Unshaven, pale and clammy skin, dark eye's and greasy hair. It was then that Sam realised that he wasn't really angry at Dean. The only person he was angry at was staring right back at him. Sam hated himself more than he'd ever done. 

Sam sent his fist barrelling into the mirror, feeling satisfied as the mirror splintered the reflection looking back. His knuckles stung as blood dripped from his hand. The initial satisfaction was short lived and Sam sunk to the floor. He noticed tears sliding down his face and furiously wiped them away. He wasn't allowed to feel sorry for himself while Dean was being tortured in hell. He was supposed to be stronger than this. But he always knew he was never really that strong.

* * *

 

Sam considered suicide. He wanted to die so much. The pain and grief he felt weren't anything like he'd felt before, and he'd known unhappiness his whole life. The loss of Dean was something else though. It choked him. It clawed at Sam and never left him alone. No amount of alcohol or denial could take it away. This was what his life was now. He knew nothing would ever change. People are supposed to get over grief, but something inside Sam knew that he'd never recover fully from this. He knew he'd never be able to go back to being the person he once was. Sam just wanted his big brother. He didn't care what they did. He didn't care if they spent the rest of their lives hunting, as long as Dean was by his side, but Dean wasn't by his side. Dean was in hell and Sam was alone. The pain he felt smothered him. He couldn't keep living like that, didn't want to keep living like that.

Sam had considered killing himself. The only thing that had stopped him before was Dean. Dean was gone now. One thing made Sam pause. If he killed himself, Dean would still be in hell, but the person who he'd gone there for would be dead and it'd all be for nothing. Sam couldn't do that to Dean, but if there was a way that he could exchange himself for Dean somehow. Die, saving his brother. Then that would fix everything. 

Sam knew a demon deal was unlikely. He knew most demons wouldn't want to know, but he had to do something. He had to find some way of saving his brother and taking himself out of the equation. He was either going to find a way to exchange himself for Dean or die trying.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the beginning of Sam and Ruby's relationship technically began before season 4, but I'd just prefer to address the Ruby situation in this next chapter and focus on Sam's loss in this one. I hope you enjoyed it and look forward to the next Chapter.


	5. Where Is The Real Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a long time coming, but it's finally here.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses on certain events in season 4. If Sam seems a little out of character for the Sam we all know and love, it's because he was a little out of character towards the end of season 4 with the demon blood and things. 
> 
> It always annoyed me how much Sam was vilified, both in the show and by fans for the whole demon blood thing. Sam had been very vulnerable and Ruby took advantage of that, but instead of support or understanding, Sam was depicted as a bad guy, so I very much enjoyed writing about my interpretation of why Sam made the decisions he did during Season 4.

When did I become so numb?  
When did I lose myself?  
All the words that leave my tongue  
Feel like they came from someone else  
  
I'm paralysed  
Where are my feelings?  
I no longer feel things I know I should  
I'm paralyzed  
Where is the real me?  
I'm lost and it kills me inside  
I'm paralysed

\- Paralysed, NF

* * *

Dean was back. His big brother, whose death had destroyed him, was back. Sam had been inexplicable relieved. When Sam had seen Dean and realised it was really him, it felt like breathing after holding your breath for an age. He felt like he could breath again. Dean was his oxygen. Although, after the initial relief and joy at thew return of his big brother, an uneasiness had settled in Sam's gut. A lot had happened in Dean's absence and Sam knew Dean would never understand the choices he had made. He knew if Dean found out about what he'd been doing... What he was still doing, he'd finally look at him like the monster Sam had been fearing he was, his whole life. Dean wouldn't understand. How could he? He didn't know what it was like to know you had demon blood flowing through his veins. Demons were always public enemy number one in the Winchester household. They weren't like the average monster of the week. They were twisted and evil, the absolute worst of the worst. An abomination.

Dean would never understand what it felt like to find out you had the blood of a creature you'd been groomed to hate and kill, running through your own blood. Sam had always felt different and wrong. He'd always feared he wasn't 'right' somehow, but to have his biggest fear confirmed by finding out a demon bled in your mouth was something that Dean would never know the feeling of. Maybe if Dean knew what it felt like, he'd understand Sam's choices a little more.

Sam had never been given the privilege of agency. He'd never been allowed to create his own path in life. Everything had been decided for him. Everything was out of his control.

Sam was taking back control. To an outsider, it might seem like Sam was giving into the life the demons had wanted for him, but it wasn't like that. Sam had no control over the demon that bled into his mouth as a defenceless child. He'd had no control over the psychic abilities he'd began to exhibit when he hit 22. He had no control when he'd been dropped amongst the other special children and had ended up being stabbed to death. He'd had no control when Dean had decided to exchange his soul to drag Sam back to the land of the living. He had no control when he watched his brother get ripped to shreds by hell hounds. He'd always been powerless, but now, he was taking back control.

He couldn't change what had happened. He couldn't change the demon blood in his body, but he could change to context of what it meant for him. Drinking demon blood and indulging in his psychic abilities went against everything he'd been brought up to believe. It went against every instinct the hunter in him had, but maybe he could take back control and use his curse to do good.

He could fight demons without killing the host which meant saving more people. He could use this horrible thing which had haunted him and use it to do good, to save people. As much as Sam had used the idea of saving more people to convince himself that he was doing the right thing, Sam also knew that a big part of this was revenge. Sam had been alone. Dean was dead and Sam had never known pain like it. He was a ruined man. An empty shell. There was barely a time of day when he wasn't drunk and demons weren't accepting his incoherent pleas of making a deal to save Dean. He was a drunk, essentially suicidal, mess and he didn't have Dean to pick him up anymore. Dean was suffering because of him.

Then Ruby had come along.

A Winchester would never trust any kind of supernatural being, especially a demon. It wasn't even an option. When Dean had been alive and Ruby had helped them, Dean had been less than trusting of the demon. So when Ruby initially came to him, he resisted. Partly because he didn't want to trust a demon and partly because he was intent on pushing everyone away and isolating himself further. However, Ruby had persisted. She didn't let up. She saved his life and even possessed an empty vessel to prove that Sam could trust her. Sam had eventually let her in and he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was because she'd come through for them more than once. Maybe it was because Sam was too drunk and reckless to care if trusting Ruby was a mistake. Maybe it was because Sam missed Dean so much and was just so damn lonely, that he'd accept companionship from anyone, even a demon.

Whatever it was, Sam stuck with Ruby and initially, it'd been more of the same. More of Sam using alcohol, suicide missions and sex to numb the grief that ate away at his soul. It was pathetic really. Eventually, though, Ruby had pulled him together, which further cemented the growing alliance between Sam and the demon. She'd spoke to him in a way he imagined Dean would have, if he was there to see him killing himself between stupid hunts and alcohol. She'd got through to him. Saved his life and gave him a reason to move forward. Said reason being revenge.

Sam had wanted so desperately to find away to bring Dean back, but he'd failed, so the next best thing was revenge. The old Winchester signature move. Sam had been beyond himself with grief and filled with so much rage and hatred. Ruby had dangled the idea of killing Lilith in front of him, like dangling a bone in front of a dog. It drove Sam forward. Gave him a reason to continue breathing, at least until he found Lilith, and not drink himself into an oblivion. So yeah, as much as Sam loved the idea of using the thing he'd hated most, the thing that made him tainted, and use it to help people, revenge drove him more. Revenge was the main reason a fire ignited inside of his belly and he became willing to do whatever it took to avenge his brother's death.

When Dean was back, Sam considered letting it go, but he couldn't. Partly because she was one hell of a big bad who needed to be put away and also because he still needed the person who'd thrown Dean in hell and caused Sam a pain like no other, to pay. Sam still need her to pay for what she'd done to them. He couldn't let go of the rage he had for Lilith because it was what was keeping him alive all those months and he didn't know how to switch it off anymore.

But it was okay because he was in control.

He was in control.

* * *

Angels were real. Actual real life beings, which perhaps meant God was too.

Dean had never been a praying man. He'd never believed in God. He'd never known faith. Sam had been the one with the faith. Sam remembers distinctively when he first heard about God. It was pastor Jim. Their Dad had always rolled his eye's at Jim's 'Bible thumping', but he was a good man and knew about their world, so John trusted him to take care of his boys.

Sam had been staying with Pastor Jim alone, as Dean was with their dad and Sam had loved it. He'd spent much of his time sitting in a church pew, even when no services was taking place. He'd sit at the back of the church, reading a Bible or some other book, sometimes he'd do his homework there and other times he'd simply sit and take in the beautiful, small town church.

Pastor Jim had a soft spot for the youngest Winchester. Floppy hair and wide eyes, an innocence that neither the hunting life, or John Winchester, had managed to knock out of him yet. Unlike the other Winchester's, Sam had seemed interested in his religion too.

Jim had noticed how Sam never failed to sit in during his sermons. He noticed the young boy staring intently, hanging onto every word. One day, Jim had gone to find Sam to call him or dinner. Jim knew he'd find the young boy in the church, but when he got there, the boy wasn't reading in the pew this time.

He entered the church quietly and noticed Sam kneeling by the alter, hands clasped tightly together. Sam hadn't heard Jim enter and once Jim saw the scene at the alter, he felt a surge of guilt. He felt like he was intruding on a very personal and private moment.

Quiet surprise soon merged into concern though, as the kind pastor noticed that the young child was crying. Sam's eye's were squeezed shut and his mouth moved slightly. On his lips were the ghost of words that never quite left his throat.

"Sam...", began the pastor gently.

Sam had shot up, wiping his eye's in embarrassment and attempted to act normal.

Jim had sensed that Sam wasn't ready to share, so he hadn't pushed Sam as to what was wrong, but as the pair sat around the table eating dinner, Jim couldn't help but press the boy on what he'd seen earlier.

"Sam... Prayer is a beautiful, sacred thing. I pray often, but I find that as humans, we tend to only pray when we are troubled by something. When I saw you earlier, you seemed deeply upset. I'm sorry that I saw you, it seemed like a private moment for you, but I did see and now I just want you to know that although God is an amazing listener, I'm not bad at that either. I'm here if you want to talk, Sam", offered Pastor Jim.

Sam looked down, considering what to say. He figured lying to a priest was pretty bad so he decided to be honest.

"I was praying for forgiveness", admitted Sam.

Jim hadn't been sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn't that. Sam was just a young child. No much more than a baby. He hadn't even hit double digits yet. What could such a small child feel guilty about, that he'd pray so desperately for forgiveness?

"What have you done that warrants forgiveness, Sam?", asked Jim.

"It doesn't make sense", shrugged Sam, biting his lip.

"If it makes sense to you, it makes sense to me", encouraged Jim.

"I just... I'm not good, not like Dean or like you. I can't explain it, but I just know. I'm not good, I'm not a hero like them. I could never be because I'm not... I don't know... Pure enough? I was praying for forgiveness on my soul. I was praying that God would make me pure again", explain Sam quietly.

Pastor Jim had felt like shedding tears right there and then. His heart broke to see a small child, that he knew was filled with so much good and light, refer to himself in such a way. To know that this child believed himself to be bad and how desperate he was to change that.

Jim hadn't been sure where all of this had come from, but he knew that growing up with a neglectful father, knowing about supernatural beings, couldn't be healthy for a child's psychological well-being, so he cursed John Winchester for putting those children in this situation. John was the easiest target for his anger.

"Sam, you are not any of those things. You are good. I see it in you. There's such light. You don't need to be forgiven for who you are. I'm glad you've developed some sort of relationship with God, but it would pain me if that relationship was based on fear and feelings of inadequacy", comforted Jim.

"I do believe in God. My dad and Dean don't, but I do. We know that monsters exist. Dad and Dean fight them, so if evil exists, good has too, right? If vampires, ghosts and demons exits, why not angels and God too? There has to be good out there too, right? That's why I was praying for forgiveness. I want to be on the good side", explained the young boy, who often seemed years above his actual age.

"I believe so. I believe in angels and in God. I believe that, although there is plenty evil in this world, that there is more good", agreed Jim, "The church can be a place of repentance and my God is a god of forgiveness, but that is not all that worship is about. It's about love and trust. It's about faith, comfort and peace. I want you to experience all of the wonderful aspects of faith, not just the guilt of sin and the need to repent".

"I don't feel like I'm allowed to feel those things, that someone like me should never be able to experience that in church", admitted Sam.

"Hold on a second", instructed Jim as he left the room. When he entered again, he carried a small wooden box.

He placed it on the table and opened it. Inside was a bible, but it was different to the many that were placed in the pews.

It was a  blue leather bound bible that looked very old and very important. It's title was embossed with gold and it smelt like leather, paper and a little bit of musk.

"My Grandmother gave me this Bible. It's very special and I'd like you to have it, Sam", offered Jim.

Sam's expressive eye's lit up at the gift, feeling unfit for such a special offering.

"I couldn't...", began Sam.

"Yes, you can and you will", insisted Pastor Jim, "You are good, Sam. I've seen enough bad to know when I'm in the presence of good. You get to decide who you are, Sam. No one else. God gave us free will which means you get to choose the person you come to be. I see so much innocence in you now and if you want to be a good person, choose to be a good person as you grow. The power to do that is in your own hands. That's not to say good people don't make mistakes because that's part of being human, but you can choose through every step of your life to be good. To make choices that keep that goodness I see in you. You don't need god's forgiveness for an imagined sin, Sam. And I don't believe that anyone's born bad or unpure. We get to decide our own fate because god gave us the gift to do so".

"You think...you think that I can maybe grow up to be a good person?", asked Sam hopefully.

"You are already are a good person, Samuel. That's why I want you to have this bible. I am happy you have faith, Sam, but I want the relationship you have with God to be one of love and comfort, not one that's filled with fear of retribution. God isn't just here to pass judgement. He's there to protect you and provide you with hope. Soon, your father will fetch you and you'll be back on the road again. You won't always be able to listen to my sermons, but you'll always have this bible to take with you. Faith in God can be an incredibly comforting thing. Take this and know that God is always with. He's always by your side", promised Jim.

"Thank you, I will take good care of it", promised Sam, gripping the bible to his chest.

"I know you will", smiled Pastor Jim.

John did pick Sam up soon after, but Sam always kept that bible with him. It was one of the things that Sam had lost in the fire that took Jess. 

Faith had always been important to Sam. Without it, Sam wouldn't have been able to cope with the knowledge that came with being a hunter. The only comfort he ever found from knowing about the supernatural beings that existed in the world, was the idea that if demon's existed, so could angels and god. He'd been somewhat quiet in his faith, he didn't talk about too much with John or Dean because he knew they wouldn't understand, but it had always been important to him. There had been moments where Sam had lost faith, but he'd always found it again. 

So Sam would have thought the moment he found out that angel's were actually real, would have been an amazing moment. A confirmation of what he'd always hoped for. What he wouldn't have expected, was for the revelation to break Sam's heart. Castiel, an angel of the lord, looked at him like he was nothing. He'd been reluctant to even shake Sam's hand. Why would an angel want to touch an abomination, right? He was too unclean for an angel to want to have contact with.

Sam wasn't even really surprised. Any bad word or insult anyone could throw at Sam, is nothing Sam hadn't thought of himself. That didn't make it hit him any less hard. When Castiel had been hesitant to shake Sam's hand, it had felt like a knife in Sam's gut. Suddenly, everything that had given him even an ounce of hope, everything he'd ever believed in, was crumbling down around him. Nothing felt real anymore. It felt like his life didn't belong to him. He didn't even feel connected with himself. 

The pain he'd felt after Dean died, the fury he'd felt at Lilith, the desperation he'd felt when Ruby had come to him, the initial devastation at the angel's attitude towards him, all of that emotion turned to nothing. His body turned to ice. All of his emotions turned to apathy. He didn't feel anything anymore.

He was Numb.

Sam was an abomination and nothing he did could change that and he was done trying. Done trying to be good, done feeling guilty constantly.

He was just so done.

* * *

The demon blood was changing him, Sam could see that now. He didn't feel like himself anymore. He was colder, more ruthless and he was losing some of the compassion and softness that had always defined him. He was beginning to find it difficult to recognise himself, but the part of him that knew all this was a small part. A part Sam locked away in the back of his mind because Sam couldn't stop now. Lilith needed to be killed more now than she ever did. She needed to be stopped or else seals would only continue to be broken.

That wasn't the only thing that made Sam continue on the path he was on.

The demon blood made him stronger, more powerful and he was addicted to that feeling. For a man who'd had his whole life decided for him, who'd had never felt in control, those feelings of strength and power that the blood brought were like a drug he couldn't get enough of.

If Sam was in his usual frame of mind, he might have realised that he was far from in control. The control he had over of the demon blood disappeared a while ago. It wasn't a choice anymore. It was an addiction, but Sam didn't want to stop.

All of his life, he'd felt so much pain and confusion. Life had always been hard. Demon blood made it easier. Nothing had never felt as easy as it did when he drank demon blood. The blood was changing him, but Sam liked that change. The demon blood stopped him from hurting so much. He was apathetic and when he did feel anything, it was usual anger and indignation. He could deal with those emotions.

Sam revelled in the power that vibrated under his skin. He never wanted to lose that feeling.

Even Dean's disapproval didn't stop him at this point. Instead, it irritated him more than anything. Sam had been supportive of Dean. When Dean told him that he'd tortured soul's in hell and even liked it, Sam hadn't judged. He'd understood, reassured him that anyone would have done the same. He didn't once give him a hard time for it. Again, when Dean had discovered that he'd started it off with the seals, broke the very first one, Sam hadn't blamed him. He'd been understanding, supportive even. Yet, Dean couldn't afford Sam the same understanding and support. Dean wouldn't even try to see things from Sam's point of view. Sam would never be able to live up to Dean's expectations of him.

Dean expected him to be perfect and when Sam inevitably couldn't live up to Dean's unrealistic expectations, Dean gave Sam a hard time. Sam wondered if there was more to this than disapproval from Dean. Sam had been Dean's nerdy little brother growing up. Even as an adult, Dean had always took an authoritative role in their relationship. He was the big brother. He knew best. He took care of Sam. Now Sam was stronger than ever. Stronger than Dean. Maybe Dean didn't like Sam being anything other than helpless. Didn't like that Sam was going to be the one to put Lilith away. Whatever caused Dean's bitterness, disapproval and distrust, the whole situation was really starting to piss Sam of. He was angry or he felt nothing. There seemed to be no in between lately.  

Dean would see though, eventually. Lilith continued to break seal after seal and everyday, she became a step closer to achieving her goal. Sam had to end her. He was getting strong enough. He could do it. He'd kill her and stop the impending apocalypse.

He'd show Dean.

* * *

How could Dean do this to him? Dean was supposed to love him, had always vowed to protect him, but he was leaving him in the panic room to rot. He was leaving him to die. Sam never thought Dean would do this to him, but he had and Sam had never felt so completely alone in the world. It was worse than when Dean died because now, Dean was choosing this. He'd lost his brother and maybe this was Sam's fault. Maybe he deserved it and maybe Dean had no other choice, but this torture for Sam. His worst nightmare and Dean just stood their whilst Sam screamed.

The physical pain that came with detox was one thing, but the hallucinations had been something else. When he'd seen Alistair, he'd been tortured. Sam had the sense to realise it was all in his head once Alistair had disappeared and he was free to move, but the agony had been very real. What came next was worse though. 

Seeing his fourteen year old self was a strange experience. He was reminded who he used to be. He'd always been a messed up kid, but things were definitely much simpler back then. He'd be so desperate for normality and now look at him. Although his younger self had taunted him about Jess's death, it made him realise something. Before the demon blood and Ruby, he tried so hard to be a good person and to be normal, but despite his efforts, people around him still got hurt. He knew Dean would never accept it, but Sam thought the path he was on was at the moment was right. He'd try to stay away from the supernatural his entire life and it'd had only resulted in heart ache. Maybe what he was always meant to do was give in to the supernatural. Give into the demon blood inside of him. Maybe he was finally on the right path. If Dean ever let him out of here, he would kill Lilith and prevent a disaster. He would save so many people. 

The only good thing about this whole situation, the only thing he was thankful for, was the hallucination of his mother.

He knew she wasn't real, but an hallucination was  _something_. He'd never had anything. He wasn't afforded any time with his mother and god, was it good just to see her. It was so good to see her and talk to her, to have her reassure him and comfort him. It was everything he'd ever wanted. But it wasn't real and he knew it wasn't, but in that moment, he wanted to forget. He just want his mom to hold him and to make the pain go away. He needed a mom. He needed someone. Maybe it was the demon blood fading, but the emptiness he'd been feeling was gone and pain and sadness crashed into him and he couldn't breath. The grief was drowning him. As he lent against an hallucination of his dead mother, he was breaking. It was too much. He knew his mom would disappear soon, but it didn't hurt any less once the vision of Mary faded. Sam inhaled, as Mary faded away, tears falling  from his face without his permission.

In that moment, he swore he'd never forgive Dean for this.

He didn't think it could get any worse after that, but then he saw Dean and he was telling him all the things Sam feared and saying the last things he ever wanted to hear come from his brother's mouth.

As time went on in the panic room, Sam noted numbly to himself that he was probably dying. He felt like he was dying and Dean was letting it happen. Dean would rather have a dead brother than a brother than was riddled with demon blood. Even before Sam started drinking it though, he'd always had it in him. It was who he was, deep down. If Dean hated this part of Sam, Dean hated Sam. Dean was prepared to let Sam die because of who he was.

Dean may feel betrayed and like he couldn't trust Sam, but he'd never know how it felt for Sam in that moment. How it felt for Sam to know his brother was letting him die. That his brother hated what he was. Sam never thought he'd see the day that this happened. Even in his lowest moments growing up, he'd thought that Dean would never leave him. He always thought Dean would have his back, but now the brother who had once sold his soul to save Sam, was letting him wither away. Was standing by whilst Sam could very well be dying, alone. 

Sam wanted to muster up some of that indignant anger that he'd been feeling lately, but instead, all he could feel was deep sadness and self loathing. 

* * *

When Sam had gotten free from the panic room. The only thing he could think about was demon blood. He'd needed it badly, but once he'd met up with Ruby and got what he needed, he thought about his situation. He thought about how Dean had locked him up and let him suffer so much.

Even if Sam thought he and Dean could work things out after that, he knew they'd truly burnt all of their bridges after their fight. Dean had called Sam a monster. 

A monster.

Dean knew what that meant for Sam. He'd aimed for the jugular and it had worked. His brother finally saw what their dad always had. That Sam was something to hunt.

Despite the way the demon blood was changing him, he still felt guilt after their fight. Sam had strangled Dean. Sam had never been the violent type, using his fist to solve problems had always been Dean's bag. Sam would never have lay a finger on Dean. Doing what he had, that wasn't who Sam was. The demon blood had changed him, but as much as he felt guilt, he felt hurt more. Dean's latest actions and words hurt more than physical violence ever could. So when Dean had given Sam the same ultimatum their dad had given him, it hadn't even been a question because Sam and Dean were through. After everything that had happened, they were already done.

Sam was alone. 

Even after everything though, something still kept drawing him back to him. Even when Sam told himself that they just couldn't come back from this, he still wanted to turn to Dean. He wanted to make things right. That voicemail was the last straw. That was when any slither of hope Sam had left in regards to Dean, disappeared completely. They weren't ever coming back from this.

Sam would show Dean though. He was going to kill Lilith, stop all of this. He was going to prove to Dean that he was wrong. He would show him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited about posted the chapters based on season 5, 6 and 7 as they were obviously defining moments in terms of Sam's mental health. Stayed tuned for some major hurt Sam in the future chapters!


	6. I'd End My Days With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make it clear that I do not blame Sam for the demon blood or setting Lucifer free, Dean broke the first seal and Cas set Sam free, so they all played a part in it and were being manipulated by the angels, but I do believe that Sam blamed and hated himself for all of it. Sam is very self deprecating in this chapter, but it's not my view of him. I love Sam! Also, there is some much needed comfort from Dean in this chapter which we didn't see so much of in season 5, but I needed it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give a warning because there's a mention of a suicide attempt in this, but it's not super graphic and I don't go too into any details. It's not gory or anything, but if you think a mention of a suicide attempt could trigger you, please take care of yourself! Always keep fight.

After all the things we put each other through and  
I would drive on to the end with you  
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full  
And I feel like there's nothing left to do  
But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running  
But this time, I mean it  
I'll let you know just how much you mean to me  
As snow falls on desert sky  
Until the end of everything  
I'm trying, I'm trying  
To let you know how much you mean  
As days fade, and nights grow  
And we go cold

\- Demolition Lovers, My Chemical Romance

* * *

Sam had started the apocalypse. He'd set Lucifer free. He'd essentially set the world on fire. He'd become everything he'd feared he would. It'd been through his own choices. He'd drank the blood of a demon, followed a demon, believed her. He'd destroyed his relationship with Dean and he'd began what would be the destruction of the world. Sam hated himself more than he'd ever hated anyone. He'd hated himself before, but nothing matched the pure self loathing he felt right now as he saw the looks in the eyes of his big brother and uncle Bobby. The disappointment and anger they felt was easy to see.

Sam didn't blame them. He couldn't look himself in the mirror. The past year didn't seem real. It felt like Sam had spent a year sleeping. He'd been taken over by something. 

That something being demon blood. 'They', whoever the elusive they are, always say that addiction changes a person. They weren't kidding. It probably didn't help that Sam hadn't just been putting illegal substances in his body, he'd been swallowing demon blood.

Sam wondered what the hell he'd been thinking? Sam wasn't stupid. He'd always had a good head on his shoulders. If you'd have told a teenage Sam that he'd have voluntarily drank demon blood, he'd never have believed it. It would have seemed absurd. Yet he'd done it. It didn't make sense to him. It was like Sam had lost himself completely. How had he ever thought this was a good idea?

Although, Sam knew, deep down how it'd happened. He knew how he'd gotten so of track.

Dean.

Dean was the reason. Not in the sense that Sam blamed Dean. He didn't. Sam was in control of his own behaviour. But Dean was the reason he'd gotten so lost. Dean's death had been the catalyst.

Sam had been out of his mind with grief. He'd never felt so much pain and the guilt of knowing Dean was being tortured because of his only made it worse. He was angry too. Angry at the world for giving them this fate. Angry at Lilith for doing this. Angry at their father for putting them in this life. Angry at Dean for leaving him, for putting him in this situation because he couldn't just let Sam go. Angry at himself...he was the only person he was really angry with. Angry that he couldn't save his big brother.

Sam had been consumed in grief, anger, self loathing, alcoholism and reckless suicidal tendencies. He'd been so consumed that it had warped him into someone different. He was still Sam, but a far more stupid and arrogant version. Without Dean, Sam didn't care much about anything and although he'd still had good intentions with what he did, he didn't have the normal logical voice in his head screaming at him that this was beyond wrong.

By the time Dean came back, Sam was too far in to stop. He'd already got a taste of it, it'd already started changing him. He was already addicted to the power it gave him. Then things just got worse and worse.

So, Sam saw exactly how it'd happened, but it didn't make it any less surreal.

The guilt Sam felt was paralysing. The messed up thing was, Sam felt more guilty for letting Dean down then he did for starting the apocalypse. You didn't need a psych degree to see the unhealthy codependency in that. That's not to say he didn't feel guilty for setting Lucifer free too, because he did. Sam didn't want to be the guy who ended the world. As a kid, he'd wanted to just be normal and now he'd let Lucifer free on the earth and he was about as far from normal as a person could get.

After everything had happened with the seals, Sam thought things couldn't get any worse. How wrong he'd been.

Even though he'd been the one to suggest that he separate from Dean, he'd hadn't truthfully expected him to agree. He knew he'd let Dean down and that he hated him right now, but he never thought Dean would want to separate. It just wasn't a Dean thing to do. It just showed how much damage Sam had done to their relationship.

Then came the hunters at the bar. He'd quit hunting because he didn't trust himself around demon blood, but demon blood followed him anyway. At first, he'd felt a sense of pride and relief when he'd spit the demon blood out. He hadn't trusted himself around it, so he was glad that, even when it was poured into his mouth, he still spat it out. Afterwards though, Sam felt pathetic. Spitting out demon blood was nothing to be proud of. He should have never gone near it to begin with.

Once upon a time, Dean would have destroyed those hunters for going anywhere near Sam, but now Sam was completely alone. Sam felt so empty and alone. So when he first started to see Jess in his dreams, he welcomed it. God, did he miss her so much. Sam thought Jess might of understood. If Jess had been aware of this life and known what Sam had done, she'd have been pissed at him while it was happening, but he thought that maybe she would have understood after the fact.

Jess saw the best in everyone. Although, becoming addicted to demon blood and starting the apocalypse is unforgivable, Jess always had compassion for people most wouldn't. She was never judgemental. Once, they'd watched this film where a kid who was abused ended killing his family and Jess had started to cry. Sam had thought Jess had been upset at the gruesome murders, but instead she was crying for the perpetrator of the murders. Sam had remembered her saying, "there's always a reason people act the way they do. A horrible past isn't an excuse to hurt others, but it's so tragic that someone, not only had their childhood ruined by abuse, but also ruined their entire future because of it". Sam had fallen a little more in love with her. He'd never met anyone so unjaded. It wasn't that she hadn't experienced pain. She'd lost her own brother to suicide, but no matter the pain she'd experienced, she remained optimistic. She saw the good in everyone. Had empathy for everyone. Jess was a wonderful person and although Sam had done something unforgivable, he believed Jess would have found a way to forgive him. He wished for her to be alive so hard, so the dreams in which she lay next to him were as equally amazing as they were painful.

Then it was all ruined. The dreams of Jess turned out to be messages from the devil himself.

Learning that he was the vessel of the most evil being in existence hit Sam like a semi. He'd always wanted to be good. Knowing he'd started the apocalypse was one thing, but knowing you were always destined to be the vessel of the devil was something else. It took Sam's breath away and in that moment, he just wanted his big brother. His big brother who'd always took care of him and made things okay. He wanted him so badly at that moment. He wanted anyone at the moment. He just wanted someone to share the burden with, someone to be there for him, to comfort him, but Sam knew he didn't deserve it.

After he'd discovered he was the devil's vessel, he'd bit the bullet and phoned Dean. He'd originally left Dean and hunting because he didn't trust himself, and now he was trying to reconnect with him for the same reason. This was too much for Sam to deal with alone. He couldn't do this without his big brother. He'd had this bomb dropped onto him and he had no idea what to do with it.

Dean hadn't wanted to know. Of course he hadn't. It had still broke Sam's heart though. He was just glad Dean had Cas and Bobby, so he wasn't alone. Sam had never felt so alone and he didn't want Dean to feel the same way.

Sam had thought back to conversation with Lucifer. He'd said he'd just bring Sam back if he tried to kill himself, but maybe that was just a bluff.

It wasn't the first time Sam had thought about suicide since the whole killing Lilith/starting the apocalypse debacle. Every moment since, he'd so vehemently felt that he didn't want to exist anymore, but at first, he'd felt like he couldn't do that to Dean. He didn't want to leave Dean cleaning up the mess he'd made, on his own. Things were different now though. Sam was no use to anyone. He wasn't going to be able to stop this. He couldn't do anything right and he was no help to Dean either. Even Dean thought they were better of apart now. 

Except...Sam thought that maybe now, there was one thing he could do for his brother. One thing he could do to help fix what he'd broken. If he really did kill himself, Lucifer would have no vessel. Sure, he could possess other people, but Lucifer needed his true vessel for the plans he had. If Sam took himself out of the picture, he could stop this. He'd be able to do something useful. Lucifer had said that he'd just bring Sam back if he tried anything, and if anyone could do that, Lucifer definitely would. Sam had to try though. Lucifer could be bluffing, but this was the only thing he could to help the situation. 

Sam thought about Dean and wished he could make things right with his brother before he did this, on the chance that he did succeed. Despite the fact that Sam had ruined their relationship, Sam knew Dean would still feel guilty for this. Not that he should, but that responsibility their father instilled in him doesn't just disappear because part of Dean hates Sam. Although, Sam thought that this would be understandable to Dean. It wasn't like before when he was a kid, not really, he was doing this because he had to. He had to do it to stop Lucifer. A nagging voice at the back of Sam's mind whispered that he was only doing it for himself, but Sam pushed that voice away. Of course there was a part of Sam which wanted out. A part of him that couldn't handle how things were, how he'd made things be, but he really was doing this to try and stop Lucifer from using him as a vessel too. 

Sam grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down an explanation for Dean, folded the paper and slipped it into his duffel. No doubt, Dean or Bobby would trace him here at some point and Sam wanted him to know why. 

The next thing Sam had to think about was how he was going to do it. Lucifer had threatened to bring him back, so Sam had to be smart about it. He needed to make sure there was no body for Lucifer to put him back into.

Leaving all of his things in the motel room, Sam discretely stole a car and drove until he was in the middle of nowhere. He made sure to find a place that was completely devoid of any civilians. Once Sam was satisfied, he parked up. Sam had planned it out. Lucifer would need a body to put Sam's soul in, so he had to make sure there was nothing left of him. He planned to set the car on fire, but as much as Sam thought he deserved to punished, he didn't really feel like being burnt alive, so he also brought a gun. Before he could think to much about it, Sam grabbed the can of petrol he'd put in the boot of the stolen car and began pouring it over every last bit of the car, including the contents inside it. Once he was sure this thing was going to go up like a bonfire. He climbed back inside. Sam took out his lighter and let it drop to the floor. He'd absolutely doused the car so flames spread fast. So Sam had to act quickly. He picked up his gun, placed it and pulled the trigger.

* * *

He was alive. Either that or he was in the afterlife, but Sam considered that if he really was dead, there'd be more pain with where he was sure he was heading. Sam opened his eye's, only to be met with a harsh light. Once his eye's adjusted, Sam realised that he was in his motel room. Sam quickly scanned his body, but there wasn't a scratch on him. Everything in the motel was as he'd left it and as he looked out the window, the car he'd stolen was still in the car park.

Lucifer.

Lucifer must have just clicked his fingers and made none of what Sam did, happen. Sam growled in frustration. Lucifer wasn't going to let him out of this.

Sam held his head in his hands as a stray tear fell down his face. Sam swiped it away viciously. He hated how weak he was. 

Before Sam could even process what he'd try to do to himself and the fact that devil himself had saved his life, he was distracted by his cell phone ringing. 

When Sam saw it was Dean ringing, for a second, he thought this was another Lucifer induced dream. Dean wanted nothing to do with him, but Sam considered it could be an emergency so he picked it up anyway. 

When Sam heard Dean's voice, he felt such relief and when his brother said he wanted to meet back up, he hadn't hesitated. He knew now that he couldn't do any of this without Dean. So Sam collected his measly belongings and stole the car he had tried to end his life in and drove to meet his big brother, pushing everything that had happened since he separated from Dean to the back of his mind.

* * *

Sam wasn't stupid. He saw the look that passed between Cas and Dean when he'd asked if Anna's plan to kill him in order to stop the apocalypse would work. Cas had said it wasn't the answer, but Sam would guess that he was only saying that for Dean's benefit. Sam understood Dean wanting to find another option, but maybe there wasn't one.

Things had been okay between Sam and Dean sinced they reunited, but Sam wasn't sure if things could ever get back to what they were. Still, it was better than Sam thought it could be, probably better than he deserved. So, he knew Dean didn't want to accept a situation which resulted in Sam dying.

Now, they were in 1978 to stop Anna and hopefully put things right with their parents. Having placed Cas in a motel to recover, Sam and Dean decided to head to their parents house. Sam decided to broach the subject of his death to Dean on the way.

"Dean, I know you don't want to accept that maybe the way to stop all this is by letting Anna do what she wants to, but maybe we need to consider that she's right", suggested Sam quietly.

"No. End of discussion. It's not the answer Sam, it probably wouldn't even work", denied Dean.

"Are you seriously telling me it never crossed your mind? Lucifer needs his vessel to carry out his plans, if I'm gone, he won't be strong enough. He told me that if I died, he'd just bring me back, but if Anna does it... Maybe it'll work", explained Sam.

"Hold up", instructed Dean as he came to a halt in the street.

"What?", frowned Sam.

"Lucifer said he'd bring you back if you died? How did that come up in conversation?", demanded Dean.

"I don't know, Dean. A lot of things came up in conversation. Lucifer is apparently chatty", shrugged Sam nervously.

Dean didn't reply, instead he just gazed at Sam, analysing his younger brother.

"There's something you're not telling me, in fact you never really told me anything about what you did while we were separated", noted Dean.

"There's not much to tell. I stayed in motels, I worked in a bar and Lucifer visited my dream disguised as Jess", groused Sam in annoyance.

"And you wouldn't lie to me, right? Not again, not after Ruby?", it was a low blow and Dean knew it, but it caused Sam to pause in his steps which confirmed Dean's suspicions. Sam wasn't telling him everything.

"Dean... ", sighed Sam. Sam was exhausted in every way possible and he didn't see how any of this was helping.

"Sam, I know you're not telling me something", insisted Dean.

"It's nothing, okay? Have you ever thought you're maybe deflecting from the original conversation. You know, talking about the possibility that my death may be the only way to stop this", argued Sam.

"It's good that I'm hesitant to consider that, seens as you're so eager to jump to the conclusion. You don't get to check out on me Sam", exclaimed Dean.

"I already did, Dean. We already did", retorted Sam.

"What's that supposed to mean?", questioned Dean.

"We're always checking out on each other. Whether it's through one of us dying or downing demon blood or if it's because you can't bare to be around your demon blood junkie brother anymore, there's always something. The truth is, we haven't been in this together for a long time. Not really. You're okay with that when you're doing the checking out, but when it's me, it's a different story. You can do whatever the hell you want, but I can't check out on you?!", shouted Sam.

"What are you talking about, I've never checked out on you", denied Dean.

"Yes you have. You died Dean. You were gone. When I died, you couldn't deal with it so you sold your soul and I was just expected to be okay with that. Did you ever consider the fact that I couldn't deal with you gone either. When I died, you made a demon deal and when you died, I kind of did too. I turned to Ruby because I was broken, Dean. You checked out on me and it killed me. Your death was what led me down that path", admitted Sam.

"So this is my fault now?", exclaimed Dean.

"No, I'm just saying. You never want to let me go, but you're always expect me to accept it when you leave. Maybe it's time you let me go too", sighed Sam.

Dean didn't reply. Instead they stood in silence looking at each other, in an unknown street, in the year 1978. Dean looked at his little brother and really saw him for the first time in months.

Sam was tired. His eye's were dull, he had dark circles under his eyes and his facial expressions exubed exhaustion. Dean had missed so much. He'd been so caught up in his own problems, his own hell trauma, that he'd missed the mark with Sam. By the time he saw what was happening, it was all too late. He'd blamed Sam, it'd been all to easy to blame Sam. Yet, so much had been beyond his control. Sam had been alone. He'd been alone when Dean died and even when he came back really. Even when Dean got back from hell, he'd been out of reach. His mind was still there. Then when all the crap hit the fan, Dean had let Sam walk away. Let him be alone again.

He'd been so angry at Sam, but Sam had been punishing himself more than anyone else ever could.

Dean thought about the conversation they'd just had. He thought about Sam's outburst about being left alone by Dean. He thought about how eager Sam was to sacrifice himself. He thought about what Sam had told him about Lucifer. He thought about it all and none of it sat right with him. His gut was tied in knots.

As none of the brothers spoke and only continued to look at each other, Sam decided to be the first to break the silence.

"Let's just go do this", sighed Sam as he began to walk away, but Dean stayed routed to the spot.

"You tried it, didn't you?", asked Dean quietly.

The choked up voice in Dean's question halted Sam too. He turned to Dean, but couldn't meet his eye's, "I don't know what you mean".

"Yes, you do, Sammy. You tried to kill yourself. Didn't you?", whispered Dean.

Sam didn't reply. He battled to keep his emotions under control, but he had no idea what to say. How do you explain any of that.

"Sam, please talk to me", pleaded Dean.

Sam signed and decided to come clean. This conversation wasn't going to end until this was out on the table.

"Fine, yes, I tried to kill myself", admitted Sam.

"Why? Why the hell would you do that?", asked Dean desperately.

"For exactly the reason Anna wants to kill me. I was in the motel and Lucifer was visiting my dreams. He told me I was his vessel and I told him I'd kill myself before I let that happen and he told me he'd just bring me back. When I woke I pho...", Sam trailed of because he didn't want Dean taking any guilt about this situation.

"You what? You phone who?", questioned Dean.

"It doesn't matter... Anyway...", Sam was cut off by Dean.

"Me, you phoned me? That was the phone call where I told you to pick a hemisphere, am I right?" questioned Dean emotionally. Sam's silence told him everything he needed to know.

"Sam, if I'd have known...", started Dean.

"It's fine, forget it", shrugged Sam.

"So what happened? After our phone call?", asked Dean. He didn't want to know, but he needed to.

"It's not a big deal, it's not like usual cases. I did it because we're on the verge of an apocalypse and it's my fault. I thought I could stop him that way, so I had to at least try", explained.

"Did you... Were you suffering?", choked Dean.

"No. I tried to figure out a way to stop Lucifer from bringing me back. I thought that of there was no body to put my soul in, maybe I could beat him", muttered Sam, but Dean's eyes implored him to continue, "I stole some car, doused it with fluid, sat in it, set it a light and then shot myself. I figured after I died, I'd burn and he couldn't bring me back".

Sam glanced at Dean who's eye's were glassy.

"I never thought I'd feel grateful to the freaking devil", confessed an emotional Dean.

"Are you kidding me? He's the devil, Dean, and if my plan had worked out, his plan wouldn't have. I'm not more important than the world. In fact, look at what I did.... I'm less important than the average person. You can't be thankful to him", argued Sam.

"Sammy, if you'd have died without the two of us making amends... I don't think I'd have survived it. And you dying like that, alone and your last conversation having been with Lucifer... You don't deserve that", stated Dean.

"Really?", laughed Sam bitterly, "because I'm pretty sure it's the least I deserve. I drank demon blood, let you down, let Lucifer free and started the apocalypse. I deserve everything I get".

Dean sat on a near by bench and beckoned Sam to join him. Once the pair were sitting Dean glanced at his brother and noticed the pain in his eyes.

"Sam, not all of that was on you. The demon blood was a bad call, but you were grieving and that demon bitch took advantage of that. I know I judged you pretty harshly, but I was a hypocrite. You were only dead for a few hours before I made a demon deal. Yours had bigger consequences, but I could have easily done something messed up when you died. Plus, you had good intentions. As for the apocalypse. A lot of people had a hand in that. The angel's being the worst culprits, but you only have as much responsibility in it as I do. I broke the first, you broke the last. The only difference being, when you knew what I'd done, you didn't judge me. At the end of the day, we all thought killing Lilith would stop the seals breaking at one point", comforted Dean.

"This is a bit of u turn... You hated me not long ago", stated Sam.

"I didn't hate you, Sam. I was angry and disappointed, but I could never hate you. I wish I'd have done things differently too. If I'd have been more supportive and understanding about the whole Ruby/demon powers thing, maybe things wouldn't have turned out so badly. I just kept arguing with you about it which just pushed you further away", apologised Dean.

"It's not your fault, it's my responsibility. I was just so messed up after you died, I wasn't myself. I had good intentions, I didn't want to hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, but I was just so full of anger and sadness that I didn't know what to do with. It wasn't supposed to end up like this", sighed Sam.

"I know, we both made mistakes and I see that you're trying to make up for it, I do, but you need to quit jumping at the chance of killing yourself, Sam. The thought of you going through that alone, the thought of you trying to end it...it kills me. I know I was really angry at you after everything that happened, but I can move past it. I forgive you, Sam, but you haven't been able to forgive yourself and you need to. You need to let go of that because if we're going to figure this out, I need you. I can't keep on down this road without you, Sammy. I still need my pain in the ass little brother", admitted Dean.

It was Sam's turn to try and suppress his emotions as his eye's became wet. 

"I don't know if I can, Dean", whispered Sam.

"You have to try. You know, us Winchester's don't have the best communication skills, but a lot of the crap that happened could have been helped if we'd have just spoken to each other. I know I have the no chick flicks rule, but you can talk to me if you need to. The next time you decided it's a good idea to set a car on fire when you're still in it, come to me, okay?", asked Dean.

"Okay, I will", promised Sam, "but it's not like a usual case of being suicidal. I thought I was doing what I had to".

"So, you've never felt like that before?", asked Dean.

"In the spirit of being honest with each other?", sighed Sam, "No, it's not the first time. I had some tough spots as a teenager when I considered doing something and when I was at Stanford, Jess made me see a doctor, but I've never done something like that before. I guess even before I knew about the demon blood, I still knew _something_ was wrong. As far as I can remember, I've always felt like there was something bad in me and no matter what I did, it'd never be good enough because of this darkness in me. I guess I was right though, there is a darkness in me".

"There is, but it has nothing to do with the demon blood. It's just about being human. We all have some darkness inside of us and you can't be in our line of work without having to tap into that darkness from time to time, but you're wrong, Sam. You're a good person. You have a good heart. You made mistakes, but you're still a good person because you always try to be. You're always trying to better yourself. Even with everything that happened with Ruby, you were trying to do good", insisted Dean.

A stray tear fell from Sam's eye and Sam wiped it away quickly, "I felt so far away from you, Dean. Ever since you died, it felt like I lost you. Even when you came back, apart of you was still there and apart of me was already gone. Then ever since I killed Ruby, you've been so out of reach...I've missed you much, Dean", admitted Sam.

"I know, Sammy, I've missed you too. We have to be a team from here on in", proposed Dean.

"We will, we're on the same page again", nodded Sam.

"Shall we go find our parents then?", smiled Dean.

"Yeah, let's do this", agreed Sam.

The conversation between Sam and Dean didn't remove Sam's guilt or sense of responsibility, but it did feel good to connect with his big brother again. 

* * *

After the emotional draining, but helpful conversation between he and Dean, Sam thought that he'd had his share of emotion for one night, but then he met his parents. 

Mary was his mother, but he'd never known her. Part of him had always felt responsible for her death and he'd always longed to have been given a chance to know her. Seeing her alive and healthy, with the normal life she wanted was surreal, but amazing. He'd dreamed of meeting her all of his life.

Although Sam knew John, seeing him at that time was probably just as surreal. He'd never known his father as anyone but the rough hunter with alcohol issue's and poor parenting skills. Seeing him before everything, before he became the jaded man he knew, was eye opening. Seeing John angrily curse a man for raising his children the way John would go on to raise Sam and Dean, messed with his head. He'd once been so angry at his father, but he'd felt the need to defend John from himself. Maybe it was because of his own mistakes, but he wasn't so mad at John anymore. Although, he knew John had been wrong, he also knew that he'd been a broken man and he'd tried his best. Sam didn't feel the anger he used to at John because his own best intentions had hurt people too. He forgave John for his mistakes too. 

Once they were home again, it had been disappointing to know they hadn't managed to change a damn thing, but it hand't been a waste. Although his parents wouldn't know it ever happened, he valued the time with them dearly. 

Now they were back home, things seemed a little more hopeful for some reason. They were no closer to an answer, but they were unified. Sam finally felt like he and Dean might be okay and he finally felt like he fit into the fold. Team free will. That's what Dean had said and they were a team, that felt amazing for Sam.

* * *

Dean didn't believe in him. He didn't know why he was surprised. Of course Dean didn't believe in him. Why would he? But it still hurt. It hurt so much.

Sam's faith had taken a knock these past couple of years. Once upon a time, the thought of angels and God gave him hope. He had faith in something better than this world. Then he'd actually met angel's and most of them had turned out to be dicks and it turned out God was more of a dead beat dad than the Lord and saviour. Everything he'd hanged his hope on, had been torn away.

Except one.

There was still one thing that Sam had faith. His still had faith in Dean. Even now, when Dean was on the verge of giving in to Michael and telling Sam he didn't believe in him. Telling Sam he believed he would give into Lucifer.

Yes, he still had faith in his brother, but no one had faith in him anymore. He'd done that. It was his own fault, but it took the wind out of him. It hurt more than anything the angel's or demon's could do.

He didn't exactly have faith in himself either, but he was determined to prove to Dean that he was worth trusting again.

* * *

 

After Dean had decided to fight the angel's instead of agreeing to be Michael's vessel, Dean may have had a change of heart about trusting him or having faith in him, but it didn't take the sting away from recent events. It didn't change the fact that Dean had thrown away his amulet. That amulet had pretty much become a physical representation of the brother's relationship over the years. Winchester's didn't have things like other people did. They didn't have a lot of possessions, but there were two things Dean always had; his amulet and the impala.

Sam's heart had crumpled when Dean had thrown it. He understood why, but it didn't hurt any less. Plus, the whole thing with heaven, it's not like he asked for that. He'd never set out to hurt Dean. The angel's had chosen those memories for him, he didn't choose them. If heaven was supposed to be composed of his best memories, they wouldn't be it. Wasn't heaven supposed to be pleasant, because that thanksgiving meal had been a whole lot of uncomfortable for Sam now he was an adult. That proved to Sam that those memories weren't his real heaven. Why would he be uncomfortable in Heaven. Maybe it was a mistake or maybe the angel's had messed with it on purpose to get to Dean, but Sam knew his Heaven was with Dean.

Dean didn't know that though and Sam had known it was useless trying to tell Dean anything. Dean didn't listen at the best of times, but especially when he was pissed of and hurt. Sam couldn't talk to Dean and Dean sure as hell wasn't about to start talking to him.

After how united they'd felt after travelling back in time to their parents, this came as even more of a blow. He'd finally felt like he had his brother again and now everything was falling apart.

So although Dean had regretted telling Sam he didn't believe in him and he'd had a change of heart, it still stung to Sam. The two moments had broken Sam to his soul. He didn't blame Dean for either of those moments though. He knew it was his fault. Everything was his fault, but he was heartbroken nonetheless.

* * *

 

After their run in with pagan gods and Gabriel's death, they felt a little closer to beating Lucifer. They had half a plan. The horseman's rings and the cage. It was more than they'd had before. Sam felt something close to hope bubbling in his chest, but he squashed it down. They didn't get lucky and he sensed that more bad luck was going to hit them like it usually did.

As for Gabriel, Sam had been surprised to find himself feeling somewhat sad at the death of the youngest arch angel. He didn't know why. They hadn't spent that much time with Gabriel and what they had spent with him, Gabriel had been messing with them.

The incident at the mystery spot was one of Sam's worst memories along with Dean going to hell. It'd been hell for him and he still couldn't listen to Asia without having to stop himself from hyperventilating. Part of him had hated Gabriel after that, but he'd been disappointed at his death.

At his core, Gabriel wasn't evil and he'd come through for them in the end. He finally stood up to Lucifer. He'd chosen his side and he'd chose human's. He'd died for humanity. Maybe that's why Sam felt his death.

There's was another part to it though, Sam felt a connection to Gabriel because he kind of understood him.

Given that Sam was Lucifer's vessel, it was easier to compare Sam to him. Dean, the righteous older brother was Michael's vessel and Sam, the rebellious little brother was Lucifer's vessel. It didn't take a genius to see the metaphor there. Despite that though, Sam felt more of an understanding to Gabriel.

Gabriel wasn't evil, but he wasn't completely good either. Gabriel had done bad things and made mistakes, he'd also ran away when things got tough, but he wasn't one of the bad guys. He had good intentions, even if he went about things badly or did things wrong. Ultimately, Gabriel did the right thing and Sam saw some hope in that. Like Gabriel, Sam had made many mistakes despite his own good intentions. He'd also ran away a time or two in his life. He'd struggled with family and who he was. He also knew there was a darkness within him, but he ultimately wanted to do good.

Sam understood Gabriel and he hoped like him, Sam would do the right thing in the end too.

As an after thought, Sam wondered if he'd come out of doing the right thing alive, or if he'd meet the same fate Gabriel did. Sam knew in his heart that if it came to that, he'd do whatever it took.

* * *

 

Sam was emotionally spent. In between developing a plan to stop Lucifer, that happened to involve sacrificing himself to Lucifer and seeing Brady again, he was wiped out. Seeing Brady had been a surprise, but killing him also gave him a little bit of closure too.

Nothing would ever make up for Jess's death, but he did finally have some answers. Sam also thought that Brady's appearance was a sign that he was on the right track with his idea. Sam knew it was a long shot and if he was successful, he'd spend an eternity in hell with the devil, but Sam wanted to be the one to end this.

Sam considered that seeing Brady and killing him, gave him some closure on his life with Jess. His little taste of normality. It was almost like the universe was tying up the loose ends of his life before it ended.

Sam knew that Dean would object to it. He probably wouldn't think Sam was capable of it and if he did, he wouldn't want to lose Sam. Things might not have been the same with them since Sam had made a whole lot of mistakes, but he was still never going to be happy about Sam being hurt. Sam knew Dean would want to try every other available option before agreeing to Sam sacrificing himself.

Sam didn't want to try another option though. Even if there was another plan, he wanted this one. He knew that was crazy. This wouldn't just mean death, it would mean an eternity of suffering at the hands of the most evil being in existence. No normal person would want that. Any normal person would be desperate to find another solution.

But Sam had never really been normal, no matter how much he'd wanted to be. And Sam wanted this to be the answer.

Sam had felt so much guilt and self loathing after he'd broken the final seal. He'd thought he'd crossed over a line that he couldn't back from. He'd thought he was completely unredeemable. Sam never thought he could find a way to make up for his mistakes. It wouldn't erase what he'd done, but he could fix it. Sam wanted so badly to fix it.

More than anything, he wanted to be someone worthy of Dean's love and faith. He wanted to prove to Dean that he was better than the person he'd been since Dean died. He wanted to be someone Dean could be proud of. He wanted to beat Lucifer and prove he was better than him.

He wanted this to work out so badly, even though he knew he would spend forever paying for it under the hands of the devil.

When Dean had finally, albeit reluctantly, agreed to Sam's plan, Sam felt warmth spread through his heart. Again, it was crazy that his brother agreeing to let Sam die made him happy, but to Sam it showed that Dean really did believe in him. His big brother, his hero, believed he could do the impossible. So, Sam was prepared to die. He was prepared to be tortured. He was prepared for anything because he knew if he could do this, make Dean proud and give him the life he deserved, it was completely worth it.

Sam hoped with all of his being that Dean kept his promise and went to Lisa if Sam was successful. Sam wasn't just saying it because it was cliché. In every movie where someone is dying, they ask their loved one to promise them to carry on with their lives etc, but Sam meant it. Sam knew he'd spend the rest of eternity in pain, but that was okay. It was okay so long as Dean was safe and happy. Sam knew that Lisa to Dean was what Jess was to him. Lisa was Dean's white picket fence just like Jess had been Sam's. Sam knew Dean could see himself living with Lisa and Ben and he wanted that for his big brother.

Sam had been the one with dreams of normality, but Sam knew that Dean wanted that deep down too. Dean had just never allowed himself to want anything other than hunting because he didn't believe any other option was possible. So Sam took advantage of the fact he was probably going to die and used it to make Dean promise that he'd carry on and follow his happy ending. Sam hoped he kept his promise.

* * *

 

Sam had been possessed before and it'd had been horrible. It was something impossible to describe unless you'd experienced it. Being present in your own body, but having another living thing in there too, with complete control over you, was awful. It's suffocating and stifling. Sam hated it when meg possesed him, but that paled in comparison to being possessed by the devil.

Sam could feel this evil energy suffocating him whilst Lucifer was in control and hurting people. He was powerless to stop him. Sam was trying, he really was. He'd fought tooth and nail from the second Lucifer had entered his body.

Sam was furious at himself. He wondered how he ever considered himself strong enough to do this. He'd been an idiot and now the world was going to pay.

It only got worse when Dean, Bobby and Cas showed up. He felt his own hands kill Bobby and Cas. He wanted to stop him, but he couldn't.

As Lucifer used Sam's hands to beat Dean, Sam screamed and fought Lucifer with everything he thought he had.

His hands.

The hands that Dean held on Sam's first day of school. The hands Dean had held when Sam broke his arm. The hands Dean had held whenever he'd been hurt or scared, growing up. Those hands were beating his big brother to death and he just wanted to stop.

As Lucifer pummelled Dean, the real Sam was screaming inside the body that had become his cage, noticed something. Something incredibly simple, but hugely important.

A plastic army man. The same army man that many chidren played with throughout the world. The army man Dean had kept, even when he'd had to fix the impala up. The army brought back other images too, images of Lego and other nick nack toys. Toys Dean had stolen or won in grab machines and wrapped up for Christmas or birthdays. Dean always made sure Sam had a present to open.

Dean was always there. He'd stood by Sam's side and he believed in him. He'd took care of Sam, tried to make up for a dead mother and an absent father. Dean had been the one to go to his parents evenings and school plays. Dean had learnt him to read and ride a bike. Dean had force fed him tomato soup and kept him hydrated when he'd gotten a fever.

Dean.

In a life full of uncertainty and pain, Dean was his constant. Dean was his strength. They were stronger together.

Dean was here now. He could have stayed away, but he was here. Refusing to leave Sam alone even as Lucifer was beating him to death. Dean still believed he could do this.

Dean had faith in him.

Suddenly, in between images of his fond memories with Dean, he noticed Lucifer becoming increasingly angry. Lucifer screamed inside of his head and Sam suddenly noticed that his hands were no longer hitting Dean.

He'd taken back control.

For Dean.

As he opened the cage and fell backwards into it, taking Michael with him, Sam was content because he knew no matter what he was about to go through, he'd done it. He'd saved the world from the monster he'd set free, but more importantly, he'd saved his brother. Sam knew any torture was worth that.

* * *

 

He was falling.

It seemed to go on forever.

Eventually, he hit something hard. The impact threw Lucifer from Sam's body. When Sam came around he realised he wasn't in his body either. Sam was lying next to himself. He saw his body beside him, apparently killed from the impact of the fall. All that was left was Sam's soul. He guessed that in Heaven and hell, souls took a physical form as he studied his hands and saw the physical appearance of what he'd looked like top side.

It took Sam a second to realise what was going on, but then it hit him like a tonne of bricks. Lucifer. The cage. That's where he was.

Sam looked around as panick rose in his chest. The cage was less of a physical object and more of a metaphysical thing. He couldn't see it's form. He couldn't see where it began or ended. He could seeing nothing but darkness. Sam noticed heat from the ground. It scolded his hand to touch, but that was the least of his problems. Sam's eye's wondered to his new roommate's. The beings he'd spend forever with.

When he first came around, he'd been left alone. Apparently, the fall took it out of the archangel's too, but now as Sam watched them with dread, they were collecting themselves and they were pissed.

Lucifer and Michael took a physical form in hell too. Lucifer appeared to him in Nick's vessel. He didn't know if it was Lucifer's choice or Sam's mind. Michael still wore the face of his younger half brother. The actual body of Adam lay discarded a few feet from Sam. Despite being absolutely terrified, he wanted to protect Adam, so he scurried over to Adam's body, ignoring the scolding floor as he knelt down to him.

Sam shook him, but nothing roused him.

"I wouldn't bother Sam, he's already dead. Part of his deal with Michael was to be reunited with his mother. Your brothers soul is already in heaven. That's merely his shell", explained Lucifer. Lucifer was on his feet now and kicked Adam's body while he was explaining Adam's lack of consciousness.

Sam had expected fury from Lucifer. He'd just trapped him back in the cage after all, but Lucifer's face was calm. His eye's were cold and hard, but a smirk grew from the corner of his mouth as he got closer to Sam.

Sam suddenly wished for anger. The cold, calculating and murderous smile was far more terrifying and unnerving.

A screech, that made Sam's entire being shake, jolted Sam's attention away from Lucifer. Suddenly, he was lying on the burning floor and Adam's face was an inch away from his.

Michael.

Sam got the anger he'd expected from Lucifer, from Michael. The archangel pinned him to the floor and ripped out Sam's heart. The pain was excruciating. White hot pain filled his sense and Sam couldn't even scream. His breath was taken from him.

"Now now brother. This is your problem. You're all fists, you have no finesse", criticised Lucifer as he pushed his brother of the human. Sam barely had time to collect himself before he found his body being pulled upwards. Chains wrapped around his limbs and stretched his body out. The metal shackles were burning hot and seared into his skin.

"You're surprisingly calm considering your back in the cage father made for you", spat Michael.

"I've been here before brother. I know that one day, I'll be freed once again, but at least until then, this time I have company. Entertainment. I have an eternity to make my vessel regret the day he dared to defy me", stated Lucifer as he turned to Sam and plunged his hand into his stomach, "I'm going to break you, Sammy. I'm going to leave you a snivelling pathetic little wreck. I'm going to inflict pain on you that's so pure and blinding that you can't even begin to imagine it. And when I'm slowly peeling of your skin and setting your lungs on fire, I'll break you down so much, you'll thank me for it. I'm going to turn you into my little bitch, Sammy".

Sam was in agony and he could barely think, but the words of the devil registered and he'd never been so afraid, because Sam could feel that he was being truthful. If Sam had any hope that Lucifer was just talking big, the look in his tormentors eye's told him otherwise. He knew he couldn't even begin to imagine what Lucifer would do to him, but he knew that he'd never be the same again. He'd have an eternity of torture.

Michael jumped onto his brother as they began to fight. Lucifer simply smiled.

"I tell you what, I win, I get to have my fun with Sam. You win, you can be the one to take some of your anger out on Sammy over there. I can feel all that wrath inside of you, you get that from dad", proposed Lucifer.

The pair began to fight and thunder crashed through the darkness of the cage. Sam could barely see what was happening between the two archangels. They moved to fast. He just saw flashes of beings. He could feel them though.

Sam couldn't really explain it, but there was something about the archangels true form that was constantly crushing you. He felt the angel's even when they weren't paying him any attention. Their true forms were painful to Sam in itself, but Sam guest he'd be in much more pain soon.

When the fight stopped, Sam wasn't sure who he hoped had won.

"Looks like you're all mine Samm", smirked Lucifer.

As he walked to Sam, Lucifer took notice of Sam's lifeless body.

"This really is a first. I don't believe someone's physical body has joined them in the afterlife before. Usually it's a strictly souls allowed affair. It presents us with a unique opportunity", considered Lucifer.

With a wave of a hand, Sam's crumpled body began to stir. Sam watched in horror as his physical body rose from the fall. Sam didn't think it was possible. That his body could continue to exist and live without his soul inside of it. Without a soul, a body was just an empty shell. But there it was. It looked like Sam for all intents and purposes, but those eye's weren't his.

Sam's eye's had always been the window to his every emotion. Even when Sam tried to hide what was going on in his head, his eye's always betrayed him.

Now though, as he watched his body come to life, there was nothing behind the eyes. They were lifeless. Dead.

"What are you doing?", whispered Sam.

Lucifer's head abruptly snapped towards Sam.

Before Sam knew what was happening Lucifer's hand was down his throat. When Lucifer removed his hand, Sam noticed in horror, that his tongue was in the palm of his hand. Lucifer had crushed Sam's voice box and ripped out his tongue for good measure. Blood rapidly filled Sam's mouth. The panic he felt at choking on his own blood over shone the agony his throat and mouth were in.

"Soon, you'll learn not to speak unless I tell you too", sneered Lucifer.

"Brother, considering we'll be spending a lot of time together, consider this a olive branch. This is my territory. My back yard. I can mold this cage into whatever I want...but there's no reason I can't play nice. I get Sam's soul. The thing that really makes Sam, Sammy, but you get his physical body. It's not as much fun as my Sam over here because in the afterlife, souls are what really count, but you can use his vessel as punching bag to take some of that rage out on", offered Lucifer.

Michael didn't need convincing, he advanced on the other Sam, who tried in vain to fight back. Before long, the other Sam had no fight left and was being layed into by Michael.

Despite his soul being separate from his body, he felt every ounce of pain Michael inflicted on his body. The sensation was indescribable because it was impossible for the human mind to comprehend, but as much as he felt the fire of his destroyed voice box and the blood in his mouth, he felt Michael's rage too. Pain didn't do it justice.

Lucifer walked closer until his face was an inch away from Sam's. Suddenly, Sam's tongue was back in its place and he could talk again.

"I'll teach you how to be a good little bitch, but where would the fun be in reducing you to snivelling, compliant, pathetic mess if I didn't at least give you the illusion of defiance to start of with. You can use that smart mouth you inherited from you big brother, because when I've finished with you, I won't need to take your tongue to stop you from talking back. When I'm done with you, you'll thank me for breaking your bones", threatened Lucifer, "I know you, Sam. I've been inside that head of yours. I know you better than Dean ever did. I know why you really did this. You didn't do it to save the world. You couldn't give a damn about the world. You did this for Dean. You're so ridiculously codependent that you trapped yourself in hell with me, just so you could prove to your brother that you could. You sentenced yourself to a life time of torture just so old Dean-o could be proud of little Sammy. But trust me, Dean won't be proud of what I'm going to turn you into".

Sam was scared. Scared wasn't even an appropriate word, but he stuck his chin out in determination. He knew he couldn't begin to wonder what the devil would do to him, but he promised himself he would never turn into what Lucifer described. He would always maintain the fight inside of him.

"You talk a big game, Lucifer, but the truth is, you're scared. I beat you. I sent you back to the cage. You didn't want to be here again and I pushed you back where you came from. You're scared. Terrified of spending the rest of your existence in here. I am the cause of your fear and you hate that. You thrive of fear, of scaring other people, but now you're scared. You can do what you want to me, but nothing will change that", provoked Sam, "No matter what you do, I'm never going to stop fighting you. I'm never going to give in. I know I can't even imagine the pain you'll put me through, but I don't care because as long as I'm down here, you are too and that means you're not topside. That means Dean's safe".

Lucifer's smile faltered and Sam recognised hatred in his cold eye's. Lucifer gripped Sam's face tightly, his hand so cold, it burnt Sam's face.

"You poor clueless little human. You think this is all worth it because of Dean. You think your bond is so strong that it can get you through an eternity with me. You're deluded. Dean doesn't care about you, not really. He was just a good little soldier who did what daddy told him. He only stuck with you because he was obligated to. Maybe he'll feel a little sad now that you're gone. Spend enough time with anyone and you'll miss them a little, but mostly Dean just feels relieved. He's finally free of the shackle he's dragged around for years. If it wasn't for you, Dean would've had a mother, a loving father, a happy life. You ruined his life, Sam and you know it. Dean will hate himself for it, but now you're gone, he'll finally be free", whispered Lucifer cruelly.

"It's not true", whispered Sam.

"You know it's true, Sam. You've always know. Dean stopped caring about you the moment he found out you climbed into bed with a demon. How many times did Dean let you know he was disappointed, that he didn't believe in you, that you were something to hunt? He was so disappointed in you. Now, he's free. I may be down here, but I can still see what's going on topside. Dean's already moved on. Moved in with that piece of ass he's so attached too. He's playing happy families. It's been five minutes and he's already moved on", goaded Lucifer.

Sam felt a tear fall. Apparently, soul's could cry. He tried to tell himself it wasn't true. He didn't care about what Lucifer said about Dean being with Lisa. He hoped that was true. He wanted Dean to be happy. It was the other stuff about Dean's true feelings for Sam that had planted a seed of doubt in Sam's mind.

Lucifer had been in Sam's head. He knew which buttons to press to get to him. He knew that Dean was his weak point.

"Time to get started Sammy", announced Lucifer as he morphed into Dean.

"No, no. Not him, not Dean", whispered Sam as another tear fell. Sam was weak, he was already breaking. He couldn't help it though. He knew it wasn't Dean, but it looked like him, sounded like him and smelled like him.

"I'm feeling generous. So, I'll let you choose, little brother. What should I do first? Should I remove you organ and set your insides on fire, that's always a classic? Or should I be a little bit more original and slice up your brain and force you to eat it? What do you think?", asked Lucifer, masked as Dean.

Sam breathed heavily, dread spreading through him.

"No answer? I guess we can do both", smirked Lucifer and pushed his hand in Sam's stomach and pulled out his liver.

In that moment, all that he knew was pain. It was as though all that existed was pain.

Sam wanted Dean. He wanted his big brother to save him, but it was Dean's face that tormented him.

Sam's resolve that Lucifer wasn't going to break him crumbled. He was already breaking and Lucifer hadn't even began to get started. 


End file.
